Shell Cottage
by Aventure Is Out There
Summary: Shell Cottage becomes a place of refuge for various members of the Order of the Phoenix during the war with Voldemort.
1. Chapter 1

**Shell Cottage**

This story is about the comings and goings of Shell Cottage during The Deathly Hallows, as well as Bill and Fleur's first year of marriage and the struggles they must overcome as Voldemort gains power in the Wizarding World .

**A Safe Place**

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><p>A gentle mist cast itself upon the rocky Cornish Coast replacing the heavy rains that battered it's jagged cliffs the night before. Hidden beneath the cliffs was a tiny beach covered in fine white sand that collided with the rolling grey sea. It was here that Eloise Wintour found a place of refuge from her daily life.<p>

A precocious girl of ten, Eloise enjoyed exploring the sandy shore littered with magnificent shells and curious rocks. Being tiny, she could move through the rocky environment with ease, fitting between large stones and discovering small coves. Her dark brown eyes sat behind large glasses, and her mousey features where framed by a mop of unruly black hair. She was usually quiet, preferring to observe rather than speak, and to many she seemed a bit strange.

On this particular dreary August day, Eloise perched herself upon a group of rocks cluttered near the shoreline to read. She kept her mind focused on her book until out of the fog strolled two mysterious figures, one male and one female. People rarely came to this part of the coast, and Eloise was curious as to who these people could be.

Carefully she studied the woman first. She was breathtakingly beautiful, with a tall willowy stature that gracefully glided along the sand. Her hair was long and blonde, and it gave off an ethereal silver glow that made Eloise wonder if she was really human. Her face was regal and proud, with delicate features and full pouty lips, but despite her unapproachable nature there was something soft in her wide set blue eyes, especially when they turned upwards towards her partner.

The man was also tall and lean, with broad shoulders, and a confident gait, but the first thing Eloise noticed was the hideous scars that spread out across his face, specifically on his right side. At first they frightened her, but beneath the scars she saw that he had a congenial face with kind intelligent grey eyes and a boyish grin. His hair was wild and red, barely tamed with a leather band pulling it back into a ponytail.

Watching the pair move towards her, Eloise hid behind a large rock hoping they wouldn't spot her, but instead of continuing in her direction the two turned towards the cliffs where a narrow and winding set of stairs led them up to a whitewashed cottage decoratively covered in shells.

Of all of her time exploring this remote part of the Cornish Coast, Eloise had never noticed the cottage, but there it stood right before her very eyes. It was nothing impressive, but it looked cozy and had spectacular views of the ocean.

Why hadn't she seen either the couple or the cottage before, Eloise wondered. One thing she knew for sure was that she was desperate to find out who they were and what they were doing here.

…

There was a reason that Eloise had never laid eyes on the isolated cottage, and that was because it was protected by magic and was rarely privy to any muggles that might come it's way. It was the home of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour, who had recently moved in after their wedding.

Still enjoying their honeymoon Bill and Fleur spent most of their time held up in their bedroom, but at times they managed to tear themselves apart from the private world they created between their sheets to explore the beach surrounding their cottage.

Fleur loved the vast expanse of the ocean, it reminded her that the world was so much bigger than her problems. She remembered going to the shore every summer as a girl with her family, and now she would have a family of her own. She imagined the tiny footprints of children littering the sand around her home and it made her smile.

Bill just enjoyed spending time with his new wife. Underneath her (admittedly) icy cold exterior she had a fiery spirit that complimented his calm and relaxed nature, and she stuck by him even after his werewolf attack which made him love her even more.

Together the two worked to fix up the old cottage that they chose due to it's difficult to get to location. With a dangerous war raging on (especially now with the collapse of the Ministry) they needed a safe place for themselves and other members of the Order of the Phoenix if need be, but despite the mounting dangers of the wizarding world around them, for that first week together, Bill and Fleur almost forgot of the war, that was until they were visited by two old friends.

…

"As far as I know Harry is safe," said Remus Lupin with a worn but resolute look upon his face. His wife, Tonks, was at his side still sporting the spiky blond hair she had at the wedding.

"And Ron?" Bill asked with a look of worry. Fleur placed her arm around her husband in an attempt to comfort him.

"Safe too, with Hermione. All three of them were able to escape the Death Eaters unharmed, and are now on some sort of mission for Dumbledore"

"And no one in the Order has the slightest idea of what this mission might be?" Bill asked. "I mean, what if they need help? They're only kids."

"Unfortunately not. Dumbledore kept it top secret, and might I remind you that all three of them are of age. I trust that Dumbledore knew what he was doing when he gave them it."

"Sorry," Bill sighed. "I guess I'm just protective of my baby brother."

"I completely understand," Lupin gave an exasperated smile. "I offered to help, but Harry refused."

Tonks let out a frown. "They'll be alright," she stated in tone contradictory of her sullen expression. "I mean you were off in Egypt breaking curses around their age, and I was training to be an auror, neither of those are particularly safe, but we managed."

"Yeah, but neither of us were up against the most powerful dark wizard of the time," replied Bill.

"True," Tonks conceded.

The air seemed a bit tense. "Why don't I get everybozie sometin to drink," smiled Fleur in an attempt to lighten the mood. She wasn't expecting a visit from Lupin and Tonks, but she knew that the only way to keep everyone in the Order informed was through personal visits as the mail was no longer safe, and since they were here now she wanted to make them feel welcomed.

"That would be great," said Tonks regaining her usual cheerful composure.

"And Remus?"

"Oh uh, maybe if you have some tea." Lupin's fatigued eyes gave off a kind twinkle, and Fleur realized that he had undergone a stressful few days and was in need of some relaxation.

"Come sit down," she said warmly.

When the four of them had made themselves comfortable, Remus quickly began to discuss what was next for the order.

"Kingsley and your father believe it's best if most of us resume our daily business as usual. They seem to think it's safe enough if one's a pure blood, and that going into hiding is akin to waving a white flag. It also gives the death eaters more reason to be suspicious. I mean we're all being watched. Mind you, Voldemort has yet to be spotted, and is believed to be out of the country. Of course, my little werewolf predicament has forced me into disappearing from the wizarding world for the time being."

As soon as everyone had finished their drinks Fleur got up to clear the table, asking if anyone wanted anything else.

"Here let me help," said Tonks grabbing her and her husband's cups.

"But zere iz no need," replied Fleur.

"Please," said Tonks walking over to the kitchen sink, and Fleur, despite her original protest obediently followed Tonks' lead.

"I'm sorry about what happened on your wedding night, I'm sure having it crashed by death eaters wasn't how you imaged what's suppose to be the happiest day of your life," said Tonks as she washed out her cup.

"Zere iz no need to be sorry. Ze important theen is zat Bill and I are married now, and we and our familiez are alive, and we are safe," Fleur stated, adding a,"For now." She turned to look at Bill with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"I know what it's like to worry about the man you love." Tonks replied patting her stomach so that her robes pressed up against her tightly. For the first time Fleur noticed a slight bump.

"Are you pregnant?" Fleur blurted out before covering her mouth in embarrassment realizing her question might be taken as rude. "Sorry, I did not mean to be so…" Fleur searched for an English word to use "…bold."

A subtle shade of pink appeared at the tips of Tonks' hair, but her lips twisted into a smile. "Quite alright," she replied with a kind-hearted laugh. "I have a habit of blurting things out myself."

Fleur was relieved to hear that she wasn't upset.

"And to answer you question, yeah. I am."

"Oh zat is wonderful," Fleur cried. "You must be so 'appy. Remus too."

Tonks' smile left her face at the mention of her husband. "Well, he isn't quite sure how to take it," she looked over towards him deep in conversation with Bill. "It's just…" Tonks paused for a moment, but Fleur's gentle nod encouraged her to continue. "He's worried. I mean who knows what will happen tomorrow, and he has it in his head that our kid's gonna be a werewolf, which is completely mental, but try telling that to him."

Fleur continued to nod, not sure how to respond.

"And he just disappeared after the death eaters questioned us the night of your wedding. I thought for sure I would never see him again. I think Harry set him straight. Apparently he wanted to assist him, but Harry refused, and only after Harry's rejection did he come back to me to apologize."

Fleur was a bit taken aback by Tonks' confession. She supposed they had always been on friendly terms ever since Bill had introduced her to the members of the order, but truth be told she wasn't use to having other females confide in her. For all of her accomplishments she always seemed to lack female friends.

"It's alright, theenz zey will get better," she replied in a comforting tone. "You are alwayz welcome here if you need a place to stay, zis place is safe."

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><p>'<p>

Review Please!


	2. Chapter 2

**The Lestrange Vault**

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><p>As the month of August rolled on with a bitter heat that showed no signs of yielding to the upcoming fall, Fleur became accustom to her new life. Bill was back at work leaving her alone during the day, and though she didn't usually like solitude, she often enjoyed the quiet afternoons spent by the sea. She used the time to engage in her hobby of choice, painting. Bill took delight in hanging her artwork around the house, and soon the white walls of their cottage were filled with the multitude of colors that dripped from Fleur's paintbrushes. He once told her that the ability to create art was a type of magic all unto it's own.<p>

The colorful brightness of Bill and Fleur's home contrasted greatly with the growing gloom that surrounded the couple. Widespread fear and confusion engulfed the wizarding community as the new Ministry of Magic (secretly controlled by Voldemort) enacted laws against muggle borns, and people began to disappear at an alarming rate. Fleur could sense Bill's mounting stress each day when he came home from work, but he always tried to keep their home life cheerful.

"I though it would be nice to have Charlie over for dinner on Friday before he leaves for Romania," Bill said one evening as he and Fleur relaxed outside on their porch.

"Zat would be wonderful," Fleur replied, leaning her head upon Bill's shoulder. She always liked Charlie. He made her feel welcomed into the Weasley family, even when other members of the close-knit clan weren't as kind. "I can make zat stew you like."

"Perfect," he replied, lazily summoning a copy of the Daily Prophet for a bit of reading.

"Ow can you read zat rubbish?" she asked disapprovingly. "It's clearly propaganda from You-Know-Ooo."

"I know that, but it's important to see what the Death Eaters are up to," he replied flipping the newspaper open to reveal its headline; _Harry Potter: Undesirable #1._ Underneath the bold print was an article claiming that Harry had murdered Dumbledore.

"Ze lies they are telling. 'Ooo could believe zat."

"It seems to me that You-Know-Who is scared that people might rally around Harry and revolt against him. He wants everyone frightened, not knowing who to trust. He wants us to feel like we have no hope. Harry inspires hope, and You-Know-Who can't have that," Bill stated as he leaned back into the porch bench.

"I believe in 'Arry. I 'ave seen 'is bravery at ze Tri-Wizard Tournament."

"I believe in him too, I just wish we had some idea of what he was up to."

…

Eloise found that she didn't have much time to go back to the beach where she discovered the mysterious cottage. Her family owned a bakery in the small village of Tinworth, and at this time of year things were particularly busy. Though technically too young to work she still helped make the goods they sold, and especially liked making the bread. Her family's bakery specialized in Ukrainian bread as her grandmother had immigrated from there years ago. The bread was normally sweet and traditionally braided into a circle. Eloise enjoyed twisting the dough so it could create its signature shape just as her grandmother had done years before when she was merely a girl in the Ukraine.

Though the bakery had recently seen an increase in sales, money was still pretty tight in her family, and it was the cause of her parents constant bickering. Caught in the middle of her mother and father's fighting, Eloise normally coped by burying herself in books and daydreaming.

"Get your head out of the clouds, girly" her mother chided her one day. "You've got about 20 more of those things to make before we open in an hour."

"Sorry, mum." Eloise frowned. "It's just…"

"It's just what? You're always off in la la land, and you've always got an excuse."

"Alright, alright, I'm going." Eloise continued twisting the dough to make the bread called kalach. She felt bad for drifting off, but she was so caught up in the mystery of the cottage and it's peculiar inhabitants that she could hardly focus on her work. For some reason the woman she saw that day by the shore seemed familiar, but Eloise had no idea where she had seen her before.

…

_Tinworth is such a strange village_, Eloise thought as she sat outside on a bench during her work break. The whole place looked to be trapped in another century, with modern technology and architecture hardly intruding on the old town's way of life, and of course there were a pocket full of people who still dressed in gowns and wore pointy hats. Having grown up in Tinworth her whole life they almost seemed normal, but every now and then she would remember just how strange they looked by most people's standards.

She rarely talked to any of these people, save for the few times they visited the bakery, and when she did they were always pleasant and cordial, but lately whenever she caught a glimpse of one of the robed towns people, they always seemed nervous and depressed. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen any of them smile, and it made her pause and wonder what could be going on with the unusual group.

_Could the mystery couple have anything to do with this?_ She wondered.

_No. They dressed much too normal_, she dismissed her initial thought, albeit, they were both quite stylish, a little too stylish for a tiny old village on the south east side of Cornwall.

…

Bill hated being back at work after his time spent alone with Fleur, but he supposed that someone had to pay the bills and support his new family. Him, Fleur, and maybe a few kids someday. Well, _someday_ in the far off future. In truth, Bill wasn't so sure he wanted to bring a child into the world where Voldemort was steadily gaining power, and people lived in constant fear. He remembered what it was like growing up the last time Voldemort held power- never allowed outside to play, terrified of something he didn't fully understand.

Fidgeting around with a few files on his desk, Bill leaned back into his chair before beginning the masochistic act of reading the Daily Prophet that sat perched against a stack of books. A picture of Severus Snape scowled at him on the front page, above it the words: _Ministry Ecstatic about New Headmaster Appointment at Hogwarts_. No, he certainly did not want to bring a child into the world with the threat of having to send him or her to a school run by a murderous, backstabbing Death Eater.

Just then a knock came at his office door. "Hey Bill," a skinny pink faced man with large rectangular glasses greeted as he walked into the room. It was Bill's coworker, Jim Flanagan, from the Vault Security Department.

"Afternoon, Jim," Bill replied looking up from his paper. "What brings you to my humble work space?"

"Well, I was wondering if you could take a look over the security measures we just set up for one of our clients. She's asked for the very best, and I figured with your expertise in curse breaking an' all, you could possibly point out any weak spots with the protection?"

"Sure," Bill shrugged. "Le'me just take a peak at the report."

Jim handed him the security report paper. At the top of the page it read:

GRINGOTTS SECURITY: The Lestrange Vault # 743

Bill blinked his eyes in disbelief. "Is this for _the_ Lestranges? The Death Eaters who've tortured and murdered dozens? Escaped from Azkaban a little over a year ago?"

"Guess you haven't made it to page two of today's Prophet," he said pointing at the paper with Snape and his greasy hair. "The Lestranges and several others have been given full pardons from the Ministry. Claims they were innocent this whole time."

"Yeah, that Bellatrix looks about as innocent as a box of venomous snakes," Bill replied.

…

When Bill got home from work that day Fleur noted that he looked more stressed out than ever, and was exceptionally grateful that Charlie would be coming over for dinner later that night. She knew spending time with his brother would put Bill in a better mood.

"Bill, mon amour," she said kissing him on the cheek. "Tell me what is wrong, why do you look so 'orrible?"

"Horrible, eh," he forced a smile, but it didn't fool Fleur. "I thought you found me to be handsome, said my scars where sexy."

"Zey are. Very sexy. But zat is not what I mean. You know what I mean."

"Alright, if you must know, works been pretty hard lately (he didn't feel like going into detail about the Lestrange Vault) and I really miss you when I'm away," he leaned down to kiss her forehead.

Fleur smiled and was satisfied with his answer. "Good zat it is ze weekend zen. Why don't you come 'elp me in ze kitchen? I theenk zat cooking will get you to relax a bit."

Fleur was right, and Bill's tension began to ease up as they worked together to chop veggies and season the meat, of course leaving a few pieces raw to satisfy Bill's recently developed craving for it. Before they knew it night had fallen, and a loud knock came at the door. Bill went over to answer it followed by Fleur

"Charlie!" he enthusiastically greeted his brother, whose stocky physique contrasted with Bill's tall and slim stature.

"I come baring libations," Charlie said. An infectious grin covered his face as he stepped inside the house with a bottle of firewhiskey. "Oh, and this one begged to tagalong, so I brought her too. Some things never change." Following close behind Charlie was his little sister Ginny.

"Ginny," Bills arms flung around the pretty red head. "I didn't know you where coming for dinner."

"Well, I'll be off to school in a few days, and I wanted to see you before I left." She replied looking up at her brother.

"I'm glad you came," Bill smiled. Fleur didn't quite share her husband's enthusiasm. There had always been a bit of tension between her and the youngest Weasley.

Fleur hugged her brother-in-law before she turned to Ginny. "Good to see you again," she greeted, desperately trying to sound welcoming.

"Uh, yeah. Good to see you too." Ginny let out with a nod. It wasn't the warmest introduction, but there seemed to be at least an effort. "I like all of the art work in here," she stated, her eyes wondering the cottage. "It makes this place rather cheery."

"It's all Fleur's work. Quite talented, isn't she?" Bill said grabbing Fleur's hand while leading his siblings toward the dinning room table.

Fleur couldn't quite make out Ginny's mumble of a response.

The party of four made themselves comfortable at the thick wooden dinning table, and with a flip of Fleur's wand the food she and Bill had prepared made its way towards them.

As the night went on, and a decent amount of firewhiskey disappeared, Charlie kept everyone entertained by telling tales of his and Bill's childhood. The two brothers reminisced on running around inside the burrow and their time spent at Hogwarts.

"I can't believe Ginny's the last one of us at Hogwarts," Bill said thoughtfully, patting his sister on the head.

"I'm pretty sure a good lot of the staff will be happy to be rid of us once we're all gone," Charlie laughed. "McGonagall must of been a bit terrified each time she found out another Weasley had been sorted into her house."

"Hey, not all of us caused trouble," Bill retorted with a smile before taking a swig of his drink.

"Oh right, you and Percy, mum's perfect little Head Boys," Charlie teased.

"Come on Charlie," Bill groaned. "Don't compare me to Percy. I think I was pretty laid back as far as Head Boys go."

"True, I don't think Percy would have let the Gryffindor Quidditch team get away with pranking the Slytherins as much as we did. To think I almost felt sorry for Snape for having to deal with our shenanigans. "

The once boisterous table suddenly got quiet as memories of Snape's massive betrayal began to haunt the room, but after a few moments of silence Ginny finally piped in. "I can't believe he's the new Headmaster. I know mum thinks it's important to finish up school, but how can I when he's in charge. Can't say I have any intention of taking orders from him, though."

Fleur watched as Bill turned towards his sister with a stern look in his eyes. "Ginny, listen to me. I don't want you to go around causing trouble. It's not worth the risk."

"Yeah, Gin. Snape's a git, but he's also a Death Eater, and you can bet his punishments will be much more severe that some silly detention," Charlie added thoughtfully.

Ginny shrunk back into her chair and took a deep breath, Fleur could tell that she wanted to say something, but didn't want to start an argument with her older brothers.

"Promise me Gin, you wont do anything stupid," Bill said still staring at her.

Ginny paused for a moment before giving Bill her word.

Dinner finished up pleasantly despite the mention of Snape's new position, and after helping clear the table the two boys decided to go outside and enjoy some cigars, leaving Ginny and Fleur alone. Fleur had to admit she felt a little uncomfortable. She never quite knew how to behave around Ginny. At first she tried to treat her the same as her own sister Gabrielle, but Ginny was hardly responsive, and as Bill pointed out, Ginny was a bit older than Gabrielle.

The problem was that the two had absolutely nothing in common. Ginny was always running around with the boys, while Fleur enjoyed much more feminine pursuits. Now the two were forced to make small talk.

"Would you like some café in ze living room," Fleur asked. "It is ze best café from France, much better zan ze café zey 'ave 'ere."

"Isn't it always," Ginny replied.

Fleur could sense the sarcasm in her voice. Maybe she shouldn't have claimed it to be better than English coffee, even though it was clearly superior, a fact Bill would often admit.

"I mean it was given to me from my mère. It iz special," Fleur forced a smile.

"I'm alright," Ginny responded getting up from the table. "Thanks, though," she added. Ginny walked over to the living room and Fleur hesitantly followed.

"So, you paint a lot?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, it haz always been my 'obby from when I was a leetle girl."

"Cool," Ginny replied tersely, plopping down on the couch.

An awkward silence washed over the room as Fleur took a seat next to her sister-in-law.

"What's this?" Ginny questioned, examining a strange circular device sitting on a stand next to the couch.

"Zat is a muggle music player. It is Bill's, 'e likes to listen to muggle music sometimes."

"Hmm, must have gotten it from dad. Bill's always had great taste in music, though. He was a fan of The Weird Sisters way before they became famous."

"'E does 'ave good taste, much better zan zat Celestina Warbeck."

Ginny smirked, "Yeah, Celestina's not my favorite, but mum does love her."

When Ginny was done studying the muggle music player, her attention turned to the Daily Prophet that sat on the edge of the coffee table. It was the one with Harry on the cover as Undesirable #1.

"I hate that paper," she stated, her eyes seething with anger. "Harry's out risking his life to save our world from You-Know-Who, and people think he's a criminal."

"I know it is completely ridiculous," Fleur agreed. "You… how ze English say… _fancy_ 'Arry, non?" she questioned bluntly, before realizing she had once again put her foot in her mouth.

Ginny blushed. "Well, um," she looked down. "I suppose, but we… well… we just wouldn't work out. I mean he's off doing who knows what."

"I know zat 'e 'as feelings towards you. I saw ze way 'e looked at you at my wedding. 'E will come back to you, just you wait."

"But what if he doesn't think I'm good enough for him after he's done fighting off You-Know-Who?"

"I do not believe zat will 'appen. Not even ze veela could distract 'im from you."

Ginny smiled, and for the first time Fleur felt that she was connecting with the youngest Weasley. The two continued to talk. Ginny listened attentively as Fleur filled her in on what happened after Ginny disapparated with her Aunt Muriel on the night of the wedding, and Fleur laughed at Ginny's spot on impression of Bill.

When Bill went back inside his house with Charlie he was surprised to see his wife and sister sitting together on the couch, talking and laughing like old friends, but he was happy that they had finally overcome their differences. He had been trying for months to have the two get along to almost no avail. "It looks like you two have been getting on quite well while we were outside," he said, a smile spreading across his face.

The two looked up at him. "We finally found sometin we 'ave in common," Fleur said.

"Yeah, what's that?" asked Bill.

"We both like making fun of you," Ginny replied.

Bill couldn't help but laugh. "So you two are going to start ganging up on me now, eh?"

"Yeah, well, you know, we're sisters now," Ginny responded. "It's what we do."

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><p>'<p>

A review would be great. Eh? Eh?


	3. Chapter 3

**Potterwatch**

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><p>Fleur finished spritzing herself with her favorite perfume before heading downstairs to find Bill relaxed on the couch. His feet were stretched out on the coffee table, and he was deeply engaged in a book floating before him.<p>

"Good morning sweet 'art," she said walking in the room with an extra swerve in her hips.

"Morning," he replied, remaining focused on his readings.

Fleur gingerly sat down next to him and closed the book.

"Hey, I was reading that," he said turning towards her.

"Oh, really," a mischievous smile appeared upon her face.

"Yes, really," he replied grabbing his book.

Fleur yanked it back, "Bill Weasley, don't pretend zat you are immune to my veela charms." She tossed the book to the floor before straddling her husband and lifting his wrists above his head so that he was at her mercy. She used this position to place a passionate kiss on his lips. A kiss he eagerly returned, and when she pulled away he begged for more.

"Mmm, you're wearing that perfume again," he sighed. "You know it drives me wild."

"Is it my perfume zat drives you wild, or is it ze upcoming full moon?" she teased, playfully biting at his ear.

"Maybe a bit of both," he smirked twisting his arms to free them from Fleur's captive grip. Using his strength he lifted her off of him, and laid her down on the couch. His lips never leaving hers.

Instinctively, Fleur wrapped her legs around his waist, and dug her fingers into his muscular backside. Slowly he began unbuttoning her blouse, kissing every inch of exposed skin.

"Je te veux," she moaned. Just then a loud noise came bursting from the kitchen.

…

"Fred, George, what are you two doing here?" Bill asked his brothers, annoyed at being interrupted.

"Well, good morning to you too, brother dearest," Fred smirked as he held out some measuring tape.

"Did you get the length?" asked George.

"Yeah. I think it should do the trick," Fred responded stretching the tape out over the tiny kitchen island. "And how about the acoustics?"

"Good. Good," George said, holding up the remainder of his severed ear. "We'd probably have to create some more sound spells though. Maybe a quieting spell to block out the noise of the ocean."

"Figured that much."

"Alright, will one of you tell me what your up to? You can't just come aparrating into my home," Bill said causing his brothers to stop what they were doing.

"Sure we can," replied Fred thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's what family's for," added George nodding his head.

The twins turned towards one another, "You know, George, you were right. This does seem like the perfect place."

"The perfect place for what?" Bill asked, thoroughly confused by his brothers actions.

"So it's agreed, my good Fred?"

"Absolutely."

With that the boys disapparated.

"What's going on?" Fleur asked, walking into the kitchen.

"I'm not quite sure," Bill replied. "The twins are up to something though, and knowing them it's nothing but trouble."

Moments later Fred and George returned with their friend Lee Jordan in tow. The twins were each holding what looked like speakers, and Lee had a microphone. "Set it over here," said George, placing his speaker on the island.

" 'Ello," said Lee nodding towards Bill and Fleur. "Nice place you got here."

"Do you mind telling us what's going on?" Bill asked.

"We're starting up a radio show."

"Yeah, since the Daily Prophet is nothing but rubbish, we figured we had to get the truth out somehow," George joined in.

"We're calling it Potterwatch," said Fred with a smile.

"It sounds like a nice idea, but don't you two have a business to run? Why aren't you at work?"

"Business has been a little, erm, slow," said Fred.

"With the Death Eaters running around, and people afraid to leave their houses, I'm surprised we're making any money at all," George frowned.

"That's why we have to do Potterwatch," piped in Lee. "Give people facts, and combat the climate of fear the Ministry is trying to promote."

"Don't worry," said George putting a hand on Bill's shoulder. "We wont always host it here. We plan on changing locations. Safety precaution, you know."

"Yeah," said Fred walking to Bill's side. "And might I ask why _you_ aren't at work, hmm?"

"It's a Saturday," Bill stated, rolling his eyes.

"Perfect then," Fred replied. "You can help. I mean what else could you possibly be doing on a Saturday morning."

Fleur turned to Bill and shrugged.

…

Eloise had returned to the beach where she first spotted her mystery cottage several times, but to her dismay she did not see it again. The image of it was so vivid in her mind that she knew she could not have made it up, but alas it had disappeared. This made her even more curious as to who could be living in the disappearing house, and she still felt that she had seen the woman before.

_She was so enchantingly beautiful_, Eloise thought, _almost like a magical creature_. And that was when Eloise realized where she recognized the woman, or at least a _woman_ who looked like her.

Eloise opened her closet where she kept a stack of treasured books, and pulled out a large leather bound one: A book of Ukrainian Fairy Tales that her grandmother had given her when she was very little. _For my Lola_, it read on the inside cover.

Being written in Ukrainian Eloise could not read the book, but it was filled with magnificent pictures, and she remembered some of the stories her Grandmother told her from it when she was younger.

Eloise opened to a page that portrayed a stunning mystical creature who looked just like the woman who lived in the cottage. In fact, the woman and the picture were strikingly similar; both had long silvery hair, a regal face, and wide set blue eyes in the shape of almonds, so blue that they seemed to pierce the soul.

_The Story of the Veela_, she thought. She wished she could read the text alongside the picture, but she still remembered some of what her grandmother had told her about the veela. Veelas were magical creatures in the form of beautiful young women. They had the power to enchant men completely, and if anyone ever angered a veela, the veela could shape shift into a bird like creature and launch balls of fire from her hands.

Eloise thought back to the couple on the beach. They both looked very much in love, but the heavily scarred man didn't seem to be cast under a spell of desire. He looked much too comfortable and confident to be enchanted, especially when Eloise compared him to the man in the picture looking up at the veela who's mouth was agape, and who's eyes were glossed over in a hypnotic stare.

Eloise set down the book and reached for the small hand carved jewelry box that resided beside the book in her closet. Her grandmother gave it to her right before she died. Etched on top of the box was a water lily and inside it held a beautiful silver comb. She remembered her grandmothers words as she handed it to her in her thick Eastern European accent, "Remember, remember my Lola, the magic is real, the magic is real."

During her grandmothers last few days the old woman could hardly speak, and when she did much of what she said didn't make any sense. Eloise assumed the last words she spoke to her were merely the senile rantings of a rapidly declining body and mind, but as Eloise looked at the comb, and then looked at the picture of the veela with a real life doppelganger she wondered if her grandmother knew the truth about magic.

…

While slowly sipping on a cup of hot tea, Fleur leaned up against the wall of the window seat inside her home. She was bored and lonely, and desperately wanted Bill to come back from work. At first she didn't mind the time she spent by herself, but as September came to a close, and temperatures fell lower, it became too cold to sit outside and paint by the sea and she found herself trapped inside with nothing to do but lie around. It didn't help that the weather had been particularly gloomy as of late, and she felt surrounded by a landscape of grey. Grey sky, grey sand, grey sea. It was too much to bare.

sulking over to the kitchen she thought that maybe she could write Gabrielle a letter. No, she had already written twice in the past week, and there really wasn't much to say. Maybe she could make some lunch? A fresh salad, some warm soup- that could be nice.

What she really wanted to do was get out of the house and walk around- see the sights of Diagon Ally- but it wasn't exactly safe to go out alone with Death Eaters everywhere. Still, she was Fleur Delacour (-Weasley); tri-wizard tournament champion, charm maker extraordinaire, and one of Beauxbatons top graduates- why should she be scared of a few Death Eaters? She had dueled them before and turned out alright. But she did promise Bill she wouldn't go wandering around by herself. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?

No. No. No. She made a promise. Why couldn't he just be here? Then they could go out together. That was when she had the wonderful idea to surprise him at his office with lunch.

…

Bill sat at his desk looking over paperwork. Sure the office job paid a bit more, but damn if he didn't miss curse breaking in Egypt at a time like this. He looked up at the picture of his family when they visited him there a few years ago- their smiling faces against the backdrop of the pyramids. They all looked so much older now, so much more worn. Percy had disowned them, Ron was gone- who knows where, George was missing an ear, he was covered in scars, and Ginny- well she was just a little kid back then- now she's well on her way to becoming a woman, not that he'd admit it. He wished that they could all go back, back to Egypt, back to how thing were before the war. He could bring Fleur too, show her all the places he loved.

He knew she was getting restless, stuck inside Shell Cottage all day- longing to get out and travel and explore- it just wasn't safe anymore, and he swore he would protect her. He was kind of angry at his mum for guilting her into quitting her part time job at Gringotts. Being a stay-at-home wife and mother worked for her, but Fleur was different- she needed more of a challenge, plus it's not like they had seven kids to take care of.

"Mr. Weasley," a grouchy voice said, as a goblin named Bagnob entered his office.

"Yes?"

"That pretty little wife of yours is here to see you. I trust she won't be taking up too much of your time. I remember when she used to work here- neither of you got anything done."

_A bit of an exaggeration_, Bill thought- he had always been an efficient worker, but he shrugged it off. The only thing that mattered was that Fleur was here to see him. He hoped nothing was wrong. "Send her in," he said.

...

Bill was relieved to find nothing wrong at all. Fleur had just come by to bring him lunch- a delicious lunch at that. Much better than the jelly sandwich he had made hastily in the morning.

"I was theenking zat you could use your lunch break to walk around Diagon Alley wit me." She smiled, sitting on his desk. "Like we used to do when you where giving me English lessons. It's so nice in ze fall."

"Can't say it's that nice anymore. Most of the alley's been deserted."

Fleur's smile contorted into a frown. "Please," she begged.

"Oh, alright, but we have to stay alert. If you see anything suspicious, I want you to leave."

"I theenk zat I can handle whatever ze situation."

"I know you can, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. There's a war going on."

"Oh, fine, Bill. I promise I'll leave at ze first sign of danger," Fleur replied with a hint of annoyance in her tone.

"Good, now let me just hand in this report to Mr. Gouch," Bill said standing up. He walked over to the door, but before he could open it to leave, the door came flying open itself. Standing in front of him was none other than Bellatrix Lestrange.

"I'd like a word with you about my vault." Her shrill voice pierced his ears.

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	4. Chapter 4

**The Story of the Veela**

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><p>"I'm sorry, Mrs. Lestrange. I don't think I'm the person who can help you," Bill stated. His cool exterior hid the fact that Bellatrix Lestrange terrified him as her dark hooded eyes raked over his body like a predator spotting her prey.<p>

"Oh," she said. Her lips twisting into a menacing smile. She moved in closer. "I think you are _exactly_ the person who can help."

Bill gulped, what did she mean _exactly_ the person who can help. "Maybe, I should rephrase that," he said, his pulse racing. "I'm _not_ the person who _will_ help you."

Bellatrix threw back her head to laugh. Her wild hair falling every which way as her yellow teeth glared at him. Quickly she pulled out her wand. "You amuse me Weasley," she said brushing the wand's tip underneath his jaw. "Such a handsome wittle boy, _pity_ about those scars." She brought her wand up to his face to trace a line of the unhealed tissue. She knew where he had gotten them- she had to. Snape must have told her everything about the Order, and now she was here to torture him.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Bill stated, pushing her wand away, while he bravely stared down at her. Even with her impossibly high heeled boots he still towered over the witch.

Bellatrix took a step back, her eyes grew smaller, and her wicked smile faded to a scowl. "The filthy blood traitor thinks that _I_ should leave."

"Do not talk to 'im like zat," Fleur spat, moving in front of her husband.

Bellatrix's glare now focused on her. "Feisty one, hmm," she stated. "And so very very pretty." Looking back up at Bill she smirked. "If I were you Weasley, I'd keep a better eye on your half-breed wife. You wouldn't want anything to happen to her."

Bill was enraged. How dare she threaten his wife and refer to her as a half-breed, like Fleur's veela heritage made her some sort of animal.

Just then a haughty looking blonde woman stopped by the office. "Bella, what are you doing talking to the likes of _those_ people?" she said turning her nose up towards Bill and Fleur.

"Cissy," Bellatrix smiled. "I was only having some _fun_."

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Well, save the fun for another time, we have business to take care of."

"Oh, alright." Bellatrix huffed like a petulant child before walking out of the office with the blonde, but not before sending a blood curdling glare towards the couple.

"Oh Bill," Fleur cried, turning to collapse in his arms.

"Come on, let's get out of here," he stated.

…

"You shouldn't have stepped in back there," Bill scolded once they were back at Shell Cottage. He had decided to take the rest of the afternoon off, feigning a sudden illness to get permission from his boss.

"And watch zat 'orrid woman disrespect you? She was looking at you like you were a piece of meat."

"Well, now you've gone and made yourself a target for Bellatrix."

"So, what? I am not scared of 'er."

"Fleur, Bellatrix doesn't just murder people. She tortures them until they're begging for death."

"Zen what now?" she threw her hands up in the air. "Do I just stay locked up inside zis house?"

"Yes, that's exactly what you do. You shouldn't have even visited me at work today. It's not safe."

"William Arthur Weasley, you are sorely mistaken if you theenk zat I will sit around 'ere all day everyday like a coward!" Fleur's temper rose.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn all the time?"

Stubborn. _Stubborn_. _She would show him stubborn_, Fleur thought as she crossed her arms. "Fine zen, whatever you say."

Her sarcasm was lost on Bill. "Good," he said before attempting to kiss her on the forehead, but Fleur coldly turned away. "Don't even theenk about kissing me."

"What?" Bill questioned with surprise.

"Until you start treating me like your wive, your partner, your equal instead of like a delicate leetle doll zat could break at any moment, zen don't even theenk about kissing me, or sharing ze same bed for zat matter!"

"I don't think you're a delicate little doll," Bill responded with an exasperated sigh. "It's just that… I worry about you. And mum, and dad, and Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, Ron, and Ginny." Bill's usual calm and collected demeanor started to crack. "It's all I do anymore: worry. I don't know if you've noticed, but I haven't been sleeping as of late."

Fleur frowned, she had noticed. Looking up at her husband, he looked less like the strong, confident man she had always known, and more like a scared little boy, with this her anger began to melt away. Taking his hand she sat him down on the couch. "Please, try not to worry so much," she said gently circling her thumb on the palm of his hand.

"I'm sorry," Bill sighed. "It's probably cause I'm the oldest of seven. I feel responsible for everyone."

Fleur pressed her lips up against his wrist. For a while the pair just sat in silence, and Bill placed a comforting hand on Fleur's thigh, while she idly brushed a lock of his hair that had escaped the tie that held it together, sporadically bending her head down to kiss his shoulder.

"We weren't made for this," he said resting his head inside the crook of her neck.

"Made for what?" Fleur asked enjoying the closeness she felt with her husband.

"This lifestyle. Me with my 9 to 5 desk job, you staying home to clean and cook- you deserve so much more. We should be out traveling the world, exploring beautiful cities like Egypt, Rome, Buenos Aires, and Tibet."

Fleur took a moment to respond. "I used to theenk zat, zat was what I wanted- adventure, glamour- everysing zat comes wit travel- but zat was before I met you. Before I met you I was just a silly leetle girl."

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but Fleur quickly shushed him and a wistful smile fell upon his face.

"Don't try and tell me you thought otherwize, Bill Weasley. I know you thought I was a silly leetle girl when we first met."

"When I first met you, you were yelling at the goblins about how the cramped condition of the women's toilet room didn't meet your standards. Forgive me if I thought you were a bit silly."

"Yes, well, as I said zat was zen. Now I know zere is so much more to life. 'Ave I ever told you ze story of my great-great-great grand-mère."

"No," Bill said moving to comfortably rest his head in his wife's lap. "Tell it to me?" he asked with a yawn, obviously getting tiered from his stressful day.

Fleur nodded and immediately began the tale. "You know 'ow ze veela, zey tend to be very temperamental, changing emotions quickly, and indulging zemselves in zere every whim, well my great-great grand-mère, Zaria, was ze most temperamental of zem all…

Zaria lived high up in a forest in the great Crimean mountains of what is now the Ukraine. Her job was to guard a hidden lake that produced the most beautiful water lilies of all time and were said to cure sickness. Every now and then a brave soul would venture up to her forest to try and find the lilies.

Zaria, being somewhat wicked, enjoyed indulging in her powers and enchanting the men who came to take the lake's healing flowers. The men would become so enraptured by her beauty that she would be able gain complete control over them and use them to do her bidding, playing with them like toys.

Unfortunately for the men she would quickly grow bored with her toys and abandon them in the forest. The men, so overcome with the grief of losing her, would be driven to madness and suicide, normally drowning themselves in the very lake they were originally trying to find.

This continued on for sometime, until a cunning and handsome knight named Caspian decided to take on the journey of obtaining the magical lilies. Knowing that in the forest of the lilies there lived a veela he consulted a powerful wizard to help him with his quest. The wizard, full of wisdom told Caspian that in order to rid the veela of her enchanting powers all he would need to do is pluck one of her silvery blonde hairs.

"But act quickly before she is able to gain control of you with her mesmerizing beauty. Always remember that she is no fair maiden, but a demon woman in disguise," the wizard said.

"Yes, but how shall I find the lake if she is the only one who knows where it is? I doubt she would help me once I have stripped her of her powers, she would most likely rather die than give up the location."

"Ah, my young friend, and that is where this comes into play." The wizard procured a silver comb, and held it out with his hand.

"What is it?" Caspian asked as he reached out to grasp the comb while staring at it with wonder. It was obvious to him that it was no ordinary object.

"That comb," the wizard smiled, "has the ability to give a veela back her power even after a hair has been plucked. You might find it to be a useful bargaining tool for a veela as vain and as obsessed with her ability to control men as the veela that lives in the forest of the lilies.

Caspian still had many questions to ask the wise wizard, but the old man sensing this, and knowing that if Caspian were to succeed he would have to figure out the rest on his own, disapparated from sight leaving Caspian to begin his difficult journey…

Fleur looked down to see her husband fast asleep in her lap. Though she was unable to finish her story it made her happy to see that Bill, after weeks of the inability to close his eyes and rest, had finally met a slumber. Gently kissing his forehead as not to wake him, she grabbed her wand, and then used a levitation spell to carefully bring him up to their bed.

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	5. Chapter 5

**The Fight**

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><p>Late September had arrived, and one day after school Eloise decided to go to the Tinworth Public Library to discover more about veelas, one of which she was convinced lived in the disappearing cottage on the cliffs outside of town. As she rode her bike down the narrow streets of her tiny village, nearly flying in the air she was going so fast, she was certain that she was about to crack the mystery of the cottage and the couple who resided there.<p>

The library was old but cozy. It was filled with big cushy chairs that one could just sink into, and two large fireplaces anchored both ends of the building, keeping the entire place warm during cold wintry days. At the front desk worked a kindly old lady who, like a handful of towns folk, dressed in robes, usually purple, but occasionally she would show a sense of pizzazz with a bright orange or yellow one. Behind her desk were two large portraits, one of a peculiar man with a long grey beard, and another of an even more peculiar woman with dark wavy hair and unusual golden eyes framed by half moon glasses. Eloise loved the portraits, and there were times when she could swear that the people in them had moved.

Finding a nice spot to set down her school bag, Eloise went in search of a book that could tell her more about veelas. As she looked through the section that carried fairytales and mythology she noticed a group of robed people huddled in deep conversation.

"We can't keep hiding them here," she heard one of them say.

"They've got nowhere else to go," proclaimed another. "Those snatchers are all over the place looking for them."

"That's why we can't have them. It's too dangerous. Anyone caught helping muggle borns will be arrested or worse."

_Snatchers? Muggle borns?_ Eloise knew that the robed people could be strange, but their conversation seemed downright bizarre. Feeling uncomfortable for eavesdropping, Eloise quickly grabbed a book, _The Veela and the Knight_ seemed like a good one for research, and instead of settling down in a nice comfy chair to read, she checked it out and hurried home.

…

"Snatchers," said Kingsley Shacklebolt, drawing all of the attention of the bustling kitchen table on him. "Are men employed by the Ministry to round up muggle-borns who have gone into hiding." Fred and George nodded earnestly at him as he spoke standing strong, tall, self-assured at the head of the table next to Lupin who looked more worn and tattered than ever. Once again the few remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix gathered to discuss the actions they should take against Voldemort in the wizarding war. This time at the Burrow, the Weasley family's home.

The meeting felt strange and empty without the presence of their once fearless leader Mad-Eye Moody, but they knew they had to continue on, not only for Moody, but also for Dumbledore and Sirius, so that their fallen friends would not have died in vain.

"These barbaric mercenaries will stop at nothing to hand over their fellow wizards and witches for a few pieces of gold, and are terrorizing anyone in their path," Kingsley continued before Lupin stood up to speak.

"We have reason to believe that a group of snatchers, lead by Fenrir Greyback, plan on raiding the traditional wizarding villages, such as Godric's Hollow, Ottery St. Catchpoole, and Tinworth. Many muggle borns and their families have gone into hiding in these places, and the snatchers hope to make quite a profit." Next to Lupin sat a visibly pregnant Tonks holding his hand.

"We need nightly volunteers to watch over these places, and help fend off any attackers. Mind you this is an incredibly dangerous task as we are not quite sure of how many men we could be up against, but it's the muggle borns only hope." he finished.

"I'll do it. I'll do whatever it takes," Bill said, rising valiantly. "I've been meaning to pay Fenrir back for these scars anyways."

"We'll volunteer too," cried the twins in unison, much to the visible dismay of Molly who was held by her husband.

"A bunch of smelly old snatchers don't scare us," said Fred with a shrug.

"Yeah, we could probably take them out with the use of soap and water alone," added George smiling smugly.

"Count me in," nodded Arthur warily. The bags under his eyes hinted that he, like his eldest son, had been greatly lacking in sleep.

"Hestia Jones at your service," smiled a short witch with black hair and pink cheeks, before nudging the elderly man sitting next to her who went by the name of Elphias Dodge.

"Oh, alright. If I must," said the grey haired wizard with a grumpy pout. "But I'm not being pared up with Diggle again."

"Hey now, Elphias, let's keep things pleasant," said Dedalus Diggle before turning towards Remus to let him know he would participate as well.

"Alright now, Kingsley, myself, Elphias, Hestia, Diggle, Fred, George, Bill, and Arthur that makes a very outmatched nine."

"I want to help as too," said Fleur standing next to her husband.

"Fleur," Bill sighed "I don't think this is the best job for you. As Remus said, it's incredibly dangerous."

"So, I helped 'Arry get to ze burrow," she snapped back.

"That was different. We didn't think the Death Eaters would attack."

"Yes, but zey did and I was fine. I know how to fight, Bill."

"She's right," Lupin interjected. "Plus we need all the people we can get at this point."

Fleur was livid that her husband was once again trying to push her out of the action even though she had proven herself a more than capable witch. Was she not also fighting for the things she believed in? Did she not also have a lot at stake if Voldemort regained full power? She was a half-breed and a member of the Order along side the family she married into. She had just as much to lose as any of them and she wanted to help. It wasn't like her to sit back and watch.

Bill begrudgingly gave his permission for Fleur to join the Order's endeavor (not that she needed it), but it wasn't enough to make her feel any better. In fact, she began to feel quite nauseous, due to stress, no doubt, and realizing that she might throw up at any moment, she excused herself to the bathroom.

Expelling the contents of her stomach into the Weasley's toilet bowl, Fleur became overwhelmed with her lack of control. She couldn't control the world outside of her, which was rapidly entering a state of chaos and destruction, she couldn't control her husband, who was dead set on her remaining passive throughout the war, and now she couldn't even control her gag reflex. Wiping her face, and glancing into the mirror she couldn't help but reminisce on how easy everything was before she married Bill. She got by with her looks, never being denied a thing, always in control. Now it seemed that her beauty mattered less and less, and she didn't like it at all.

As she walked down the hall on the first floor, she passed Bill's childhood bedroom and decided to take a peek in side. She liked the fact that nothing had changed in the room he shared with his brother Charlie since he had left the Burrow for Egypt many years ago. It gave her a glimpse into his life during his schoolboy days.

It was easy to tell who's side of the room was who's. Charlie's side was painted a bright lime green and covered in clashing posters of his favorite Quidditch teams who's players flew frantically in and out of the frames. Hanging haphazardly over his bed were several medals he had received from playing the sport at Hogwarts. Bill's side was much more modest in comparison. The wall was painted a less jarring navy blue and only held a few meticulously placed posters of muggle bands. The two contrasting sides were united by a large Gryffindor banner

Fleur walked over to Bill's desk. Above it were a few shelves where dozens of books were neatly stacked. _The Ancient Magic of the Pyramids, Magical World Cultures, _and _Hogwarts: a History_ were some of the titles displayed. It showed the side of him that was serious and studious. Receiving 12 O. was no ordinary feat. Opening the desk drawer she found his Head Boy badge and several pictures of him back when he had much shorter hair. Some of them were taken with his family, others with people she didn't know. Old school friends probably. One of the pictures was of a very pretty teen girl giggling, winking, and blowing a kiss. _An ex-girlfriend?_ Fleur wondered before hexing the picture so that it disintegrated. She realized that there was so much about Bill she didn't know. After all she had only met him a little over two years ago.

Maybe Molly was right. Maybe they had rushed things. She was so swept up in her romance with Bill, who's rugged good looks caught her attention the day of her third task at the Tri-Wizard Tournament, that it seemed like fate that they should meet again only a month later, working at the same bank. Maybe it wasn't fate, just a strange coincidence, and their marriage wasn't destined to survive the pressures of the war- she didn't know.

"Fleur," called Bill's familiar voice.

Fleur turned to see her husband standing at the door.

"Darling," he continued. The way he was sweet talking her after their argument made her angry even if it seemed irrational. "I know you want to help out with the Order and everything, you know, to have an excuse to get out of the house, but maybe you could sit out of this assignment. The snatchers are looking for... well, anyone who they think isn't fully a witch or wizard, and you, being part veela... it's just... if you get caught I don't know what I would do," he stumbled through his words.

Fleur's anger began to boil. "You theenk zat I only want to help to get out of ze house," she cried. "Vous garçon imbécile! Merde!"

"I know enough French to know you just called me an imbecile."

"Well, you are."

"I'm sorry I care about your well being."

"Why don't you care about my well being 'ere tonight. I don't want you anywhere near me at ze cottage!" With that Fleur apparated back to her home leaving Bill behind.

...

Tears streamed down Fleur's face as she got ready for bed. She knew that she was being harsh on Bill- he was only worried about her safety, but she wanted him to accept that they were in this together. Getting into the bed they normally shared, it felt so much bigger and colder without his presence. Tossing and turning she tried to find a position she felt comfortable in, but as she was so used to snuggling up with Bill, his strong arms pulling her into him, she wasn't quite sure how to sleep with out him there. She ended up holding onto his pillow, breathing in his musky scent. Maybe he would still come home despite her words to leave her alone. Maybe she would wake up in his arms and everything would be back to normal.

The next morning Fleur awoke still alone without Bill's warm body, and a tinge of sadness crept over her as she remembered their fight from the night before. She felt terrible, and wanted to apologize. She needed him back in their home. It being a few minutes past 11:00 am she knew he would be at work, so quickly she dressed, remembering to grab a heavier sweater as it was getting colder and colder with each passing day, and apparated to Gringotts.

...

"Ello, Mr. Bagnob," she greeted the goblin that worked at the front desk of the Gringotts offices. "I am 'ere to see Mr. Weasley."

The goblin continued starring down at his work, before lifting his large beady eyes towards her. "I'm sorry Mrs. Delacour, he's not in at the moment. He went for a fifteen minute break about an hour and a half ago."

"What?" Fleur gasped. It wasn't like him to not be punctual.

The goblin ignored her question and instead continued working on his paper. "If you see him, let 'em know he's late, and we'll be taking this out of his paycheck."

_Where could he be_? She wondered a bit concerned. She realized that there was probably a logical explanation for his extra long break, but in times like these anything could happened. Thinking back to his confrontation with Bellatrix the day before a panic began to set in.

"Mrs. Russo," she spotted a sweet elder lady who used to work in foreign relations with her.

"Oh Fleur, deary, how have you been?" she smiled. "We miss you at the office." That was a lie. No one except Mrs. Russo was particularly fond of Fleur at the foreign relations office. The Goblins didn't mind her because she got her work done, but everyone else thought she was a stuck up French princess. The only person who ever bothered to get to know her for who she really was, was Bill, and now he was missing.

"I'm good," she responded not in the mood for small talk. "Do you 'appen to know where Bill went?"

"Ah, I believe he went to run an errand in Diagon Alley. Been gone for a while now, though."

Diagon Alley. Now she was truly worried. "Oh, ok," she replied. "It was nice to see you again, Mrs. Russo," she said hastily, before running out the door of Gringotts onto the dangerous street hoping she would find Bill, and that he would be alright.

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	6. Chapter 6

**Snatchers**

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><p>When Bill got into work that morning, everything seemed a little bit off. His coffee tasted too bitter for his liking, his desk looked smaller, or at least not big enough to hold the mounting paperwork that piled on top of it, and the usual buzzing of Gringotts was louder and more annoying than he had ever remembered it before.<p>

"You alright there, Bill," his boss, Mr. Gouch asked as he passed by Bill's tiny closet of an office. "You're looking a bit peaky. Sure you're feeling better from that illness last week? I don't want you spreading anything around here."

"Yes, I'm fine," he replied tersely. But fine was far from the truth. He felt awful about the argument he had gotten into with Fleur last night, and she was the only thing he could think of. He knew he had to apologize, but knowing how stubborn Fleur could be, he knew it was going to take a lot more than a simple 'I'm sorry' to be forgiven.

_Maybe some chocolates- no macaroons- her favorite, a nice dinner, a bottle of wine, and a large bouquet of flowers- Then she might start to think about forgiving me._

He could pick up the macaroons, wine, and dinner at the market after work, but he had to get to the flower shop before it closed at 2:00 pm. Knowing he had to sit through a meeting with the goblins during his lunch hour, he figured he should use his 15-minute break to grab them.

"Mr. Gouch," he went over to his boss' office two doors down. "Mind if I use my 15-minute break now? I need to…erm… run an errand."

"Sure Bill, some fresh air might do you some good," Mr. Gouch replied looking up from his desk. "How about this? Since you did such a corking job with that dragon security report you handed in, why don't you make it a 20-minute break?"

"Oh, um, yeah. Thanks," Bill smiled modestly. "Right then, see you in twenty."

…

Bill apparated to Diagon Alley Number 96, 'Zephyrella's Fresh Flower Shoppe' only to find it boarded up with not a flower in sight. A sign hung on the door stating: _Closed until further notice_. Not sure where to go next he walked across the street to Fred and George's Joke Shop hoping they would know where to find a muggle florist.

"Oi George, a customer," Bill heard Fred say as he entered the shop causing the bell on the door to ring.

"Oh, never mind," Fred said dejectedly as he popped his head over the second floor balcony. "It's only Bill."

A smile teased upon Bill's lips as he shrugged. "Eh, only your oldest, most favorite…"

"Most handsome?" George interrupted sliding down the store's stair banister.

"Most handsome," Bill nodded seriously, but there was laughter in his eyes, "most brilliant brother. Don't bother about me."

"Bother you, is that what your asking?" Fred appeared holding several boxes of _Nosebleed Nougat_. "I thought we had been doing just that for 19 years, mate."

"Look's like we might need to make some changes in our strategy," George winked at Fred mischievously.

"So what can we do for you, oh handsome and brilliant one?" Fred asked placing the _Nosebleed Nougat _on one of the shelves. "Need to perfect that five o'clock shadow with one of our new facial hair gels? They can grow any sort of mustache or beard you'd like in mere minutes!"

"Hmm, tempting. You think I'd look good with a handlebar mustache?" Bill said scratching his chin and pursing his lips like he was posing vainly for a camera.

"Dashing," Fred replied swinging his arm up. "Like an old-timey bank robber."

"Too good looking to _handle_," George mused.

"No, sorry boys," Bill laughed. "I'm not here to buy anything today. I was just wondering if you knew of any muggle florists in the area?"

"Marital problems, ehh?" shrugged Fred, patting his brother on the back.

Bill winced. "That obvious?" he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

"No, I thought you stayed at mum and dad's last night cause you missed the pleasant humming of the ghoul," George replied.

"We don't know of any muggle florists, but we do have these love potion roses," Fred said summoning a bouquet of the red flowers. "One whiff and Fleur will be so enamored with you that she'll completely forget your little row last night." He held them out with a grin.

"Yeah, only to be more ticked off once the spell wares," Bill pushed them away, worried about what would happen if he inhaled their sickly sweet scent.

"Maybe I'll just stick to a nice dinner at the cottage tonight, that is if she lets me back in." An image of Fleur's face right before she disapparated appeared in Bill's memory, her deadly blues eyes seething with anger, her tiny nose scrunched up in disgust. "No, better get the flowers," he thought out loud.

"Speaking of the cottage," Fred turned towards his older brother after sending the roses back upstairs to where they belonged. "We want to use your place for Potterwatch this weekend."

"Yeah, we tried doing a show at Aunt Muriel's, but the place is a bit cramped with all of those creepy porcelain dolls." George gave a shudder. "Their eyes, they just… stare at you," he said with a spooky far away look.

"Not to mention, dear old Aunt Muriel kept interrupting to give our listeners ever important updates on her azaleas," Fred rolled his eyes.

"I suppose." Bill nodded. The twin's pirate radio show had been going well. It kept people informed on the progress of the war in both an enlightening and entertaining way, well, as entertaining as a radio program about Voldemort's attempted rise to power could be. "Make sure you take the proper security measures, I don't want any Death Eaters tracing it back to the cottage."

"Don't worry, we've been extra careful lately," Fred stated with a serious tone.

"Lupin's gonna make a guest appearance, too," informed George.

"I have to admit, I'm pretty impressed with your war efforts." Bill replied looking at his brothers with pride.

"Well, we do try," Fred smirked, clearly pleased by Bill's affirmation.

"Yeah, plus, we don't want little Ginny to one up us," added George.

"What do you mean by that?" Bill questioned, the pride in his eyes rapidly fading to worry.

"Ginny and a few school friends broke into Snape's office and tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor a few days ago," George responded.

"What? Why would? … What a stupid… did she get caught?"

"Yeah mate," Fred frowned. "But don't worry, her punishment was to hang out with Hagrid for a few hours in the Forbidden Forest, can't image that being too bad. Coulda been much worse."

"That doesn't make me feel much better," Bill sighed. "Look, I'm running out of time. I've got to get back to work in a few, and I still have to find some damn flowers, but if either of you are able to contact Ginny, tell her to stop pulling stunts like that. She could get murdered." He shuddered at the thought. His little baby sister killed at the hands of death eaters for her defiance. He remembered the first time he had held her after she was born. Being the eldest of a large family he had held a baby a time or two before, but right away he knew that Ginny was special. For one thing she didn't cry like the others. Even at a young age she was tough as nails, but being tough didn't matter when people like Bellatrix Lestrange could fling out unforgivable curses without so much as a flinch.

"Maybe she'll listen to you two, cause she sure didn't listen to me." With that Bill stalked out of the store, still on his mission for flowers.

…

Fleur's boots pounded the pavement in front of her. When Bill said that most of the alley had been deserted he wasn't exaggerating. Normally around this time of year floating candles and twinkling lights would line the streets signaling the upcoming October season. Scents of pumpkin and other fall spices would linger around the shops, inviting the crowds to come and take a peek inside. Now there was none of that. Stores were closed, windows where smashed in or boarded up, and there was hardly anyone one in sight.

Hurrying past the remains of Florean Fortescue's destroyed Ice Cream Parlour she remembered a much happier time when she and Bill would stop there after work every once in a while. Huddled together at the back corner table they would laugh and steal kisses while enjoying Florean's delicious sundaes. It seemed as if the Death Eaters weren't content until everything that brought joy was demolished.

She kept her eyes peeled for a tall red head, knowing he wouldn't be hard to spot. A few older witches past her. Their heads were kept down, covered by hooded cloaks. She wanted to ask if they had seen Bill, but none of them looked like they wanted to stop and talk. Her eyes wandered over to Ollivander's Wand Shop. The place had been closed for over a year now. It's owner taken by Death Eaters. She wondered if the sweet old man who had sold Bill his first wand was even still alive.

"'Ello love," a lecherous voice called from the shadows. Being used to catcalls from strangers who thought she was an object to be commented on, she simply ignored it.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" The voice followed her, but she refused to stop.

"To good for me are you, princess?" Unfortunately, she had heard that one too many times before.

She continued to walk down the desolate street without acknowledging the man's presence, but the sound of his footprints persisted behind her. She had to admit it was starting to worry her, normally men would see that they couldn't get a rise out of her and move on, but her intuition told her this man was trouble. She picked up her pace, and the man did the same, his heavy boots clanking along the cobblestone street faster and faster. Finally, she pulled out her wand to turn and stun him, but when she looked back he wasn't there.

"Expelliarmus"

The man apparated in front of her, cursing her wand out of her hand. Fleur ran to grab it, but another man, pudgy and balding appeared and picked it off the ground.

"Looking for this dear," he grinned showing his lack of teeth. Fleur looked around, she was now surrounded by five men, all of them dressed in dilapidated clothes, smelling like they could use a bath.

The owner of the voice that originally called to her grabbed her by the wrist.

"Let go of me," she screamed.

The man smirked as she struggled to escape, making his grasp tighter. It was hopeless, she was trapped by the gang encircling her. "My, my," he said holding her gaze. He had long greasy hair that tangled into knots and black paint under his eyes. "Quite the looker we have here." The men around her nodded in agreement, hunger in their eyes.

"Stunning, really," he continued.

"Looks like she could use a good shag to wipe that haughty frown off her face," another man spoke, and Fleur felt her body freeze up in fear.

"Shut up Rixby," the long haired man snapped. "You'll do nothing of the sort. Don't frighten our guest like that." He smiled at her, but his smile did nothing to make her feel more at ease. "No, this ones much to beautiful to consort with the likes of you, so beautiful it's almost not natural, not… _human_."

"You sayin…?"

"I'm saying the Ministry will pay a pretty galleon for a _creature_ like her."

_Snatchers_, Fleur realized. Conjuring up all of her strength she kneed the pudgy man holding her wand, and grabbed it back from him. With her sharp reflexes she was able to stun four of the men, leaving only the long haired one conscious.

"Not so fast pet," he said still smiling.

"Stupefy!"

Fleur flinched expecting the curse to hit her, but when she opened her eyes the man lied stunned on the ground. _But who sent out the curse then_?

"Fleur," it was Bill's voice.

"Bill," she cried running towards him into an embrace. He was holding a bouquet of flowers.

"What… what are you doing out here?" asked Bill, kissing her forehead, clearly still in shock from what had just transpired.

"I went looking for you," she replied. "I went to Gringotts to… to apologize, and Bagnob said you weren't zere, zat you 'ad been gone much longer zan expected. I was worried. Why were you out for so long?"

"I went out looking for these," he said holding out the bouquet. "Zephyrella's closed down, so I had to go find a muggle florist. Took longer than expected. Here, they're for you," he handed her the flowers. "I'm sorry… about last night."

Fleur kissed him, hoping to convey that all had been forgiven. Her doubts about their marriage last night erased as her lips hungrily prodded his, realizing she never wanted to kiss another man. No one else's lips could taste as sweet, as comforting, or as wonderful.

"You where brilliant back there," he said breaking their kiss. "Taking down those four snatchers so quickly. I was wrong in thinking you couldn't handle yourself."

"Yes, but Bill, if it weren't for you ze long 'aired one, 'e would 'ave taken me. I've never been so frightened. All I could theenk was zat if 'e took me, and I never… we never," Fleur began to choke back tears, she had come so close to being sold to the Ministry for her veela heritage, like she was some sort of animal. _Not human_, the snatcher called her. _A creature_. And then what would happen at the Ministry? Would she be tortured? Experimented on? Killed? Never to see Bill or her family again?

"It's alright," he whispered, comforting her. "I have to get back to work, but just go home and try to relax. I'll be there as soon as I can. Don't worry about dinner. I'll pick something up from the market." He placed another quick kiss on her lips, then hurried off back to work.

…

Bill finished up some papers for an important Gringott's account, but his mind was hardly on his work. Too much had happened that day: learning about Ginny and the sword, then finding Fleur and the snatchers. _Those two are more alike than they think they are_, Bill thought. _Neither of them ever listen to me_.

Hoping to find comfort in some tea, he headed to the break room to make himself a cup. As he poured the hot water into his mug he noticed Griphook, one of the goblins that worked in the higher ups of the security department, slide beside him.

"I.. ah... heard about you little run in with Mrs. Lestrange yesterday," he rasped quietly in almost a whisper as his eyes scanned the room.

"Oh, erm, yeah," he responded not sure how to react. Technically his refusal to help Bellatrix could get him fired.

"What you did yesterday was an act of pure nerve, stupid none the less, but you have nerve kid."

Bill gave a tiny wry smile.

"Things are changing around here," he continued. "That sort is infiltrating. Us goblins are losing control of this place."

Bill nodded. "What I don't understand is why you lot allow this to happen. Why don't you stand up for yourselves against you-know-who?"

"We goblins don't stand against or for any humans, plus it's not exactly prudent to cause trouble for whom many of you wizards call the Dark Lord. Which is why you probably wont be seeing me round these part much longer, but don't worry, I got my revenge."

Griphook motioned for Bill to bend down so he could whisper something in his ear.

"That old Severus Snape has no idea that the sword of Gryffindor he just locked away in the Lestrange vault is a fake."

"A fake?" Bill questioned standing back up. "My sister Ginny and a few of her friends just risked their lives trying to take it from Snape, and your telling me it's a fake."

"Yep," the goblin smiled smugly. "Human made imposter. The real one's genuine goblin crafted. Humans would never know that though, Snape probably put it in the vault to keep it from thieving children like your sister, thinking it's real and all. I image her and her friends got quite the punishment."

Bill frowned. He supposed he was happy the Death Eaters didn't have the sword of Gryffindor, but it didn't relieve his concern about his sister.

"Mr. Weasley," Bagnob interrupted as he entered the room looking as unpleasant as ever. "You're needed at the front desks. We're starting a mandatory finger printing for all employees."

Bill immediately realized that this was a way to keep track of any muggle borns that worked at the bank. _The Death Eaters didn't waste any time using their new control over Gringotts_, he thought. Griphook raised his eyebrows knowingly at him then turned away.

…

After a long day of work, Bill made a quick stop at the market for some dinner, then apparated back home. There he found Fleur sitting by the hearth, starring into the roaring fire that lit up her delicate features and porcelain skin. A single tear fell from her lengthy eyelashes, down the contour of her cheek.

"Darling," he said kneeling beside her to place a hand on her shoulder and kiss her temple. She leaned into him as his arm stretched around her back, her eyes still focused upon the fire. "Sweetheart, tell me what's wrong?" he asked gently. Burying her head into his chest she began to sob. Bill wrapped both of his arms around her, and attempted to kiss her pain away.

"Je t'aime," he whispered, sifting his fingers through her long silvery blonde hair. He brushed it behind her shoulder so that it fell to the small of her back, exposing the elegant nape of her neck. "Whatever it is. What ever you're crying about. Things are going to get better," he said looking into her eyes with certainty, though he had no certainty for himself, but he had to be brave and strong for his wife.

"I'm just so scared, Bill," she opened up. "I theenk zat today was ze first time I realized the reality of zis war. Zat… zat we might not make it out alive. Cedric, 'e was such a good and wonderful and kind boy, and they killed him, just like they could kill us, and Moody 'e was so… so smart and tough and even 'e could not survive. "

Bill rubbed his rough calloused hands over her back. It broke his heart to see her this way. He had tried so hard to carry all of the burdens of the war so that she wouldn't have to. Tried to make their home life cheerful, and protect her from the horrors of the war, but he was beginning to realize that he couldn't keep her from everything. "I wont let that happen. We're going to make it through this," he reassured her.

"Êtes-vous le promets?" Fleur sniffled. "Promise me."

"Je vous le promets." he replied, staring at her soft lips before closing the gap between them. Fleur held her arms around his neck, and he lifted her up in one fell swoop, carrying her upstairs to their bed. "I promise."

* * *

><p>'<p>

This is my favorite chapter, so I would love to hear what you all think.


	7. Chapter 7

**Baby Photos**_  
><em>

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><p><em>The Veela and The Knight<em>

There once was a brave and handsome knight named Caspian who went on a dangerous journey to find a lake filled with lilies said to have magical healing powers. Traveling high up in the mountains, he came to the forest that was said to house the mysterious lake, and there he was met by a beautiful maiden, who's flowing long hair was silvery blond, and who's deep blue eyes could pierce one's soul.

The maiden moved seductively toward him and gave him a coy smile, yet the clever knight, knowing that this was not an ordinary woman, but a wicked veela who used her powers of enchantment to control men and drive them to madness, refused to be impressed by her beauty.

"Who are you?" She asked in a low drawn out purr.

"I am but a simple knight named Caspian," he replied.

Slowly and steadily he approached her using all of his might not to succumb to her powers, and when her long silvery hair was just within reach he plucked a strand from her scalp.

Suddenly her hair changed from an ethereal silver to an ordinary ash blond, and her deep blue eyes faded to become much more pale. "What have you done?" she screeched in horror, while shoving the knight back.

"I know the secrets of the veela, and you no longer have the power to enchant me," he stated smugly.

The veela's eyes narrowed in anger. "What do you want from me?" she spat with disgust.

"I want you to lead me to the lake with the magical lilies. You are the only person who knows where it is, and I need to find it."

"Ha," the veela laughed with a wicked and haughty smile. "I would never show you the lake. I would much rather die."

"Oh, really?" the knight asked his beautiful foe. "What if I told you that I had a way to give you your powers back?"

The veela looked up at him curiously. "Go on," she said.

"Take me to the lake, and I will show you."

"How do I know to trust you?" she asked suspiciously.

"You don't, you will just have to take me to the lake to find out."

The veela desperate to get her powers back realized she only had one option. "Alright," she said. "This forest is dangerous, so you'll have to follow my instructions to a tee."

And the knight smirked in triumph…

"Eloise, get out here, we need your help at the bakery," Eloise's mother called. With that Eloise sat down her book, and hoped to finish it at another time. "Coming, mum," she replied.

…

Alexander Roberts

Elfryn McVoy

Athena and Adeline Jones

Sandwiched between Fred and George, Fleur sat at her dinning room table listening to the names Lee Jordan called off on Potterwatch.

Florence Marie Porpington-Blot

Dean Thomas

Glinda and Reynard White

Ruairí O'Brien

Seraphina and James Boyd

Delilah DeVry

Thomas Biggner

Calvin Fortsoothe

These were the unlucky witches and wizards who had gone missing in the past few weeks. The list was ever growing and each name weighed heavy on Fleur's heart. After having heard quite enough, Fleur moved into the kitchen where she found Remus, Tonks, and Bill huddled deep in conversation.

"So you're saying they want to kill everyone in these villages?" Bill asked in a low voice.

"Yes, he wants to make an example of anyone who is helping muggle borns hide out," Remus replied.

"Kingsley and I are doing our best to get people to evacuate, but it's hard when you don't know who to trust," added Tonks before spotting Fleur.

Bill turned around and smiled pleasantly, but Fleur could see the worry in his eyes that rendered his smile meaningless.

"I am sorry to interrupt," Fleur spoke in a timid voice she didn't recognize.

"No worries," Tonks responded. "In fact, I'm glad you did. I'm in desperate need of the loo. Pregnancy makes me pee like a race horse," she continued before exiting the room.

"We were just talking about our watch duty," Bill said, his tone wavering with an out of character unease.

"I heard," Fleur frowned.

"Good then," Remus nodded. "Bill can fill you in on the rest later as we won't be having any more Order meetings. Too dangerous now."

"Oui, I understand, but I can still expect to see you and Tonks regularly?"

"Ah, well hopefully," Remus sighed. "Dora hasn't been doing too well"

"What do you mean? Ze baby is alright, non?"

"Yes, yes. The baby is coming along fine. It's just that her father is on the run from the Death Eaters, and we haven't heard from him in a week or two. Understandably, she's worried sick."

"Oi, Lupin your on," The voice of Fred came roaring through the kitchen.

"That seems to be my cue to leave," Remus said, leaving Fleur and Bill alone.

"So, I suppose you heard everything," Bill said leaning up against the counter.

"Just ze part about ze Death Eaters wanting everyone dead in ze wizarding villages 'iding muggle borns."

"Well, that's pretty much the gist of it. You and I will be sharing a watch shift on Tuesday night in Godric's Hallow, while you're on your own for Thursday afternoon in Ottery St. Catchpoole, though I've heard it will be unlikely for the snatchers to come there, and then I'm on call with dad for Tinworth on Saturday night."

Fleur nodded assuredly attempting to hide her fear. She would not back away now, not after she had gained the confidence of her husband.

…

The next few weeks were relatively quiet in terms of Death Eater Activity. People continued to go missing, but it was more of a steady trickle of disappearances than the mass exodus that occurred in August and September after Voldemort secretly gained power at the Ministry, and hardly a single death had been reported by the underground sources. Of course Harry had not been spotted for quite some time causing many people to wonder if he had given up trying to defeat Voldemort, but Fleur kept a quiet hope that at some point Harry would return.

Bill on the other hand had grown more cynical. He was forced to sit back and watch as Voldemort's minions took over his place of work, and his easy going boss, Mr Gouch, of whom Bill had been on friendly terms with, was fired and replaced by a harsh older man who upped Bill's workload forcing him to work overtime with out pay. Bill was also keenly aware of the fact that he was being monitored closely at work by people who were just waiting for him to step out of line.

Despite all of this Bill still managed to keep his commitment to the Order, and every Tuesday him and Fleur would keep watch of Godric's Hallow, and every Saturday he and his father would stand guard in Tinworth.

One Saturday night, early in November, when Bill was out on duty, Fleur found herself pacing back and forth across the hard wood floors of Shell Cottage. She had grown to adore the small home with its' charmingly mismatched furniture and cozy little dinning area filled with fresh flowers from the garden. The rustic kitchen was modest but it was surrounded by spectacular views of the ocean that helped soothe her worried mind.

As fleur continued to move through her home, she was suddenly startled by a loud knock. Instinctively pulling out her wand she turned to the door. "Who is it?" she called, trying to sound as intimidating as possible.

"Oh, Fleur dear, it's only me, Molly. Would you let me in? I have my hands full."

Breathing a sigh of relief she opened the door.

"I didn't mean to frighten you, deary," her mother-in-law said entering the house. "It's just, I made a batch of biscuits, and well seeing as there's no one home to enjoy them, you know, with Arthur in Tinworth and the boys both at Godric's Hallow… well, I thought I would bring them here, figured you could use the company," her voice was cheery, but Fleur could sense her anxiety. It seemed like Molly needed the company more than she did.

"Oh, oui. Come, sit down," Fleur smiled taking Molly's tray of biscuits. "Why don't I put on a cup of tea?"

"Oh, no need, I'll make the tea myself," Molly replied walking into the kitchen, already making herself at home by searching through the cabinets to find where the tea was kept.

"Ze cupboard to ze right, next to ze spices" Fleur motioned helping her mother-in-law along.

"Oh, yes. Here we are," she said grabbing the tea box. "You know, if you put the spices in alphabetical order they're much easier to find. Here let me help you do it." With out asking Molly began to rearrange the spices with her wand.

"No, please. You shouldn't, I like ze way zey are organized, with ze ones I use ze most in front," Fleur stated a tad vexed. Molly always found something wrong with the way she did things, even if it came from a place of well meaning.

"If you say so, dear. Now about that tea, and why don't I whip up something to eat while I'm at it," she said placing a hand on her hip. "You're so thin, Bill too. I don't think your standard French food is enough for him, you really ought to learn to make heartier meals. Plus, you need to put on some weight if you're going to get pregnant- gives the baby a cozier place to grow. I want my grandchildren to be healthy."

Fleur let out an uneasy smile. "Of, course," she nodded.

"Speaking of babies, I brought along Bill's baby photo album. I've always meant to show it to the lucky lady that stole my little William's heart, but for some reason I never got around to bringing it to you before the wedding."

Fleur knew exactly the reason Molly never got around to bringing it to her. Molly never really approved of her and Bill's relationship up until a month before the wedding.

With a few flips of her wand, Molly started heating the teapot, preparing a casserole dish with leftovers from the icebox, and sat Bill's photo album down on the kitchen table, where the two witches made themselves comfortable.

"Oh, this was little Billy right after he was born. Arthur was so happy to have a son," she said pointing to the first picture.

Fleur looked down at the smiling baby boy held by his proud pop. His tiny little toes wiggling around. The picture tugged at her heartstrings, and she imagined Bill staring down at their future child while she stood by his side glowing- a perfect little family.

"You know, Bill was a difficult birth, I was in labor for twenty six hours with him."

The image Fleur had of her potential family suddenly disappeared as she cringed and unconsciously clamped her legs together. _Twenty-six hours? _

"Oh, don't worry deary, the first ones always the worst, but after the third, I hardly felt a thing. Fred and George popped right out!"

Filing that last bit of information under things she never wanted to know, Fleur watch as Molly excitedly flipped the page, still beaming at the image of her baby son. "Here's Bill napping, such a beautiful little boy," she pointed. "Bill laughing in his high chair, and oh, one of my favorites, bath time."

"Zeese are adorable," Fleur smiled, wondering if Molly had any idea of what her son's 'bath time' entailed of now.

Skipping a few pages Molly opened up to a picture of a four-year-old Bill, with his two-year-old brother Charlie. "Such a good big brother he was, not much of a talker as a child, Charlie was the more outgoing of the two eldest, but he was always so polite and well mannered. The kids all looked up to him. And here he is reading a bedtime story to little Percy." Molly took a sharp breath, frowning for a moment at the mention of her third eldest, but she quickly replaced the frown with a large overcompensating smile. Despite Molly's cover up, Fleur could still sense her heartbreak over Percy's abandonment of the family.

Just then a whistling noise came from the teapot. Fleur stood up to get it, but Molly insisted she bring over the tea, and made her way to the stove. Fleur continued to flip through the pages of Bill's photo album where she found a picture of his first day at Hogwarts. His gangly arms and legs seemed to big for his body as he waved from platform 9/3 looking both excited and nervous and it made her laugh.

By the time Molly sat down with the tea, Fleur was looking at a picture of Bill on the day of his graduation from Hogwarts. Standing next to him was his youngest brother Ron who was taking in the sights of the castle with amazement.

"Oh, Ron was so excited to see Hogwarts that day. My little Ronnie," Molly sighed, resting her hand to her heart, before contorting her face into a miserable shape in an attempt not to cry, but it was in vain, and at the picture of her youngest son, Molly broke down in tears.

"It's alright," Fleur reached out to her mother-in-law, placing a comforting hand on Molly's back.

"Bu..bu..buuuut… he's gone, I don't know where he is, and I miss my baby," she sobbed. "And now Arthur and the b..b..boysss are…"

"Zey will be fine," Fleur assured Molly who was wiping her eyes.

"You're right," Molly managed to breath. "Fleur, I'm sorry if I ever gave you a hard time. I'm just protective of my children, you'll understand when you have kids of your own."

Just then Bill's lion patronus came roaring into the room. "Fleur, we need your help, the snatchers have come to Tinworth.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Hello faithful readers. I'm sorry it has taken so long to update. I kind of hit a wall with my story despite having most of it mapped out. Sooo, I did some thinking, and all of these ideas popped up. I didn't want to write a totally new story, but I knew there had to be some changes made. I hope that you will decide to reread the changes then continue following, but I understand if this upsets you. I'm really sorry, I am, but I just didn't know how to continue the story I was writing before, and I think this new and improved version is headed in a better direction. Thanks for everything. Love, Adventure is out There!

**Fire in Tinworth**

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><p>It was a cold crisp night as Bill made his rounds through the outskirts of Tinworth. As a quaint place with fairytale style cottages and tree-lined streets, it often got eerily quiet after dark. Historically it had been home to a good deal of wizards and witches who lived peacefully alongside the town's unknowing muggles after the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy in the 17th century.<p>

Feeling a craving for nicotine Bill pulled out a cigarette from his well-worn travelers coat and using his wand he lit the end, allowing himself to inhale the heavy smoke, enjoying the thick taste of tobacco that bit at the back of his throat. It was an old habit that he had sworn he would quit once he moved back to England, but lately, with the stress of work, he allowed the vice to take hold of him once more.

"Bill," he heard a soft voice whisper. Turing around Bill saw his fathers familiar figure emerge from the surrounding shadows with his unmistakable horn rimmed glasses and balding red hair. Although greatly resembling his father in temperament and stature, Bill secretly hoped he had inherited his mother's thicker tresses, because if there was one thing he was vain about it was his shinny crimson mane, and he never wanted to see even a spot of it vanish.

"Aye," he greeted, before taking another long drag from his cigarette.

"I thought you quit?" Arthur said raising an eyebrow at his son's unhealthy habit.

Bill, feeling a little guilty only shrugged. "Seen anything out of the ordinary on the west end?" he asked curiously.

"Nope, everything seems to be in order."

"Good. Then perhaps we can keep watch together for the rest of the night."

"Well, it sounds like a decent plan, but only if you drop the cigarette."

Bill smirked at his father's request, but being a good son he listened to orders and squelched out the burning embers on the ground. With that the pair began to walk together toward the center of the town, moving swiftly through it's back alleys, hoping to keep a low profile. Despite the circumstances, Bill was happy to be alone with his father who he had always been close with and worked hard to please, but as the two came upon the village square, something felt off, and Bill's enjoyment of his dad's company began to fade, being replaced with a heavy sense of unease. Suddenly a terrifying scream was heard.

"Let go of me you filthy creep," cried the voice of a woman, promptly thrown to the ground then stunned by a man who proceeded to light the house he came out of on fire with his wand.

All around Bill and Arthur flames began to fly, and a group of unkempt wizards began to apparate onto the grounds. The snatchers had arrived.

…

Eloise was helping her parents close up shop after a long day of work. The place needed extra cleaning due to a massive flour spill, so the three had to stay unusually late. It was nearly midnight when the scent of burning wood came wafting into the bakery, causing Eloise to step outside to see what it could possibly be. To her horror she found that the houses nearest to the town square had been engulfed in flames.

"Mum, dad," she called to her parents still in the kitchen. "There's a fire outside. It seems to be spreading. Come on, we have to get out of here."

"What on earth are you talking about, Eloise," her mother said as she emerged from the kitchen to the sight of flames moving rapidly toward her, its smoke filling up the night sky.

"Oh my," she sighed in unbelief "Derrick, Derrick, get out here. There's a fire."

"Where should we go?" said Eloise's father. "The whole town looks like it going to burn down?"

"Stay here for a second," Eloise said wanting to see if the path towards the cliffs and the beach below was clear. She knew that there they could find a safe place to escape the fire.

"Wait a minute, what do you think you're doing, young lady?" her mother cried as Eloise leaped onto the street and turned the corner to get a better view of the edge of the town. Suddenly she spotted two identical red headed boys appear in the middle of the street. Astonished she watched them whip out what looked to be sticks from their back pockets.

"Let's go," she heard them say, not noticing her shadow covered figure. At first she assumed that they must be involved with whoever set the massive fire now overtaking the village, but as she watched them approach a flame covered building she saw them use their sticks to put it out. Intrigued, but realizing she had to act fast to save her family, she ran to the road that lead to the cliffs, and seeing that it had been untouched by the fire she ran back to get her parents.

Bringing only a bag full of bread and an old blanket the three moved quickly to the thin forested area that separated the town from the cliffs on the east side of Tinworth, but when they got to the tree filled barrier a strange and disheveled man appeared from the dark.

"Well, well," he said to the terrified family. "If it isn't some filthy muggles, tryin' to escape?" When he pulled out one of those sticks, Eloise knew they were in trouble. Struggling with what to do next she felt anger boil up inside of her, why did this man want to hurt her family? Although she knew she was only a tiny little girl she got the urge to physically assault the much larger man as he laughed wickedly at her and her parents, and suddenly as he flicked his wand a tiny spark lit from its end, only he looked like he wasn't expecting that to happen.

"Huh," he said with a look of confusion. "What you do to me wand, little girl?" he cried angrily, and with that his entire wand lit on fire, a strange blue fire that spread up to his hand and arm. Screaming in pain the man ran away from Eloise and disappeared into the forest.

"What was that?" asked her father clearly bewildered.

"I have no idea," she replied just as confused.

"I think that means we have to get out of here," said her mother still in shock. "Eloise, you lead the way."

Eloise lead her parents through the thin forest, down the rolling hills that moved out to the sea, and towards the south where her favorite beach lied hidden under an impressive pile of jagged cliffs. It was there that she took them to a cove where she knew they would be safe for the night.

Her parents exhausted from their long day's work, fell quickly asleep on the sand with the blanket they brought, but Eloise unsettled by the eventful evening stayed up to ponder. Who were the two red headed boys and the disheveled man, all with sticks that seemed to do magic? And how did the man's stick catch fire, was it her that did it? Could the mysterious couple and disappearing cottage have anything to do with tonight?

It wasn't until dawns early rays peeked up over the sea that she realized she had stayed up all night, and still restless, Eloise decided to take a walk around the beach. Leaving her cove she noticed that high up on the cliffs marched a peculiar group of people to the shell-covered cottage she hadn't seen since that day in early August.

Leading the group was a large bald black man in a deep purple robe followed by an older red headed man, also balding with horn rimmed glasses. Then came the twins she had seen appear that night, behind them an elderly robed man with a bushy grey beard being helped up by a younger woman with black hair and rosy cheeks. Giving the rest of the group distance came another robed man with a pointy magenta hat and, to Eloise's great interest, the couple she knew to reside inside the cottage. The veela like woman's silvery blond hair glowed in the faint light of the morning as the heavily scared man wrapped one of his arms protectively around her. Bringing up the rear was a weary figure with tattered clothes and sandy blond hair gently peppered with grey.

Fascinated she stared at them enter the cottage one by one, until they were all inside, and suddenly the cottage disappeared.

* * *

><p>'<p>

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you can appreciate the changes made, and that you will continue with this story. It would mean a lot to me if you could review what you think of this new version. Also, up next is the appearance of a certain member of our favorite trio. It should be a real treat!


	9. Chapter 9

**SURPRISE!**

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><p>The next day Eloise and her family cautiously made their way back to their home in Tinworth. To their great surprise the damage was not to the extent that they expected, and both the bakery and their home that sat above was left completely unharmed. Though the smoky smell of charred wood overwhelmed the nostrils, and the streets were lined with ashes, most of the buildings remained intact. The only place truly devastated was the town library, which to Eloise's dismay, had been burned to the ground.<p>

As many of the residents of Tinworth congregated in the town square to view the destroyed library, talk of the night before permeated the air.

"I can't believe the old librarian left the fireplaces going," a voice said.

"You know, she really could have burnt down the whole town," stated another.

It became clear to Eloise that most of the residents of Tinworth believed that the fire had been started on accident and not by strange men with sticks. Did they not see them? Could she have been the only one to interact with said men? Something seemed off, and Eloise began to realize that Tinworth might not be as boring as she had always assumed.

…

"The confundus charms seemed to work," said Remus, hesitant to relax with a cup of coffee on the kitchen table. "The muggles have no memory of the events of last night, and the remaining wizards in the area have spread the rumor that the damage in the town was due to the old library catching on fire."

"Thank goodness," replied Fleur happy to hear that things had been brought back under control. Fortunately, the entire Order had responded quickly to Bill and Arthur's call for help, and together they were able to stop the snatchers from gathering any muggle borns and from burning down the town.

"Yes, things went surprisingly well considering how much could go wrong," Remus stated finally taking a sip of coffee as Fleur opened a window to let in some salty ocean air. "Of course, it was to our advantage that snatchers aren't the brightest group of people. I dare say that if we had been up against actual death eaters we would have been in trouble."

"Mmm hmm," Fleur responded mindlessly having lost Remus' words to the sound of the roaring sea. Her focus was only regained when a very large owl came soaring towards her home holding a shockingly bright yellow magazine beneath it's claws.

"Ah, the Quibbler," said Remus standing to retrieve his mail. "I'm surprised it found me here. Smart creatures those owls."

"Did someone say the Quibbler?" Bill yawned as he walked groggily into the kitchen. "You don't actually read that rubbish?"

"This rubbish," said Remus with a raise of his brow, "is the only printed news source that's getting out the truth about You Know Who and the Ministry."

"Really," Bill stated with a look if disbelief while grabbing the paper. On it's cover read the headline: _'Nogtail Nectar and it's Ninety Medical Uses Healers don't Want You to Know About.'_ "Old Lovegood's work? You can't be serious."

"Deadly serious," Remus replied tersely.

"I mean he's a good man, Lovegood, but he's a bit, how shall I say, mental."

"Is 'e ze same crazy old man 'ooo wore ze tacky yellow robes at our wedding? 'Ooo danced like zis?" Fleur asked while moving spastically.

"That would be him," said Bill laughing gently at his wife's impression of the old man.

"Well, he might be crazy, but right now he's the only thing we've got," stated Remus, clearly not as amused as Bill.

Reluctantly Bill flipped past the first page and opened to an article entitled _'Snatcher Surprise Causes Chaos in Cornwall._' Underneath were surprisingly accurate details on the events of the night before. It even gave interviews with some of the town's people, who seemed to be infuriated with the Ministry for allowing the gang of snatchers to invade their peaceful town.

"I don't give a bloody rat's arse if you're a pure blood or a muggle born, I just want to be left the hell alone!" boldly exclaimed one of the town's elders.

"If Dolores Umbridge wants to keep her job she best make sure she has a better reign on those foul creatures they call snatchers. Their stench alone is deeply offensive to anyone they come in contact with, and they should not be allowed to roam our streets," stated another prominent member of the community.

"I hate to say I told you so," said Remus with a vindicated grin on his face. By now both he and Fleur had crowded around Bill to read the Quibbler.

"Zis is incredible," said Fleur. " 'Ow did 'e get ze information out so quickly?"

"I don't know, but Charlie and I owe Mr. Lovegood an apology for laughing at him all these years," replied Bill still in shock.

"You know what all this uproar means?" stated Remus.

"People are unhappy with what's going on?"

"Yes, and most importantly people are starting to really notice what's going on."

"Ze Ministry will 'ave to do sometin about ze snatchers now, even ze wizards who dislike ze muggle borns hate ze snatchers even more."

"At the very least, I doubt there will be a mass gathering of them in a public area," said Remus. "They'll have to take their business into the forests. I mean its' just an absolute public relations nightmare for the Ministry, which as far as I'm concerned is a victory for the Order."

Sure enough only a few days later the Ministry issued an apology to the 'pure-blooded' law abiding citizens of Tinworth and created a rule stating that no more than three snatchers could be together in a public environment, how well this rule would be enforced was yet to be seen, but it gave the members of the Order a small reason to celebrate. Despite all this, Bill struggled to keep his spirits up.

Overwhelmed with paperwork from the changes made at Gringotts, Bill often got home late, headed for one of the spare bedrooms that had been converted into an office, and continued to work into the night. Many times Fleur would find him there the next morning sleeping face first in a pile of papers, his quell ink spilling into his hair.

To make matters worse his new boss, Mr. Krott, decided Bill no longer needed his already tiny office on the main floor (which at least had a window), and forced him to move into an even smaller space deep down in the depths of Gringotts that at one point in history had been an actual dudgeon. With all of this Bill found that his occasional cigarette had rapidly morphed into a two pack a day habit.

Bill's new diet consisting solely of coffee and cigarettes did him no favors and Fleur was quick to notice. She knew he needed something to cheer him up and with his birthday right around the corner she figured a surprise party could do just that. Excited to finally have something to do, Fleur worked tirelessly to send out invitations and create a special menu for his birthday dinner. It was easy to convince Bill that she didn't have much planed for his big day as he wasn't expecting anything to begin with- with a dangerous war going on birthday parties seemed a bit frivolous.

Before they both knew it, his birthday had arrived, and on that morning Bill found himself studying his looks in the mirror. He was officially 27 now, and boy did the past year show. In addition to the deep scars he did not have at 26, a few slight wrinkles had begun to creep up around his eyes, and his cheekbones were more pronounced than ever due to the weight he had lost off of his already slim frame. His muscles were still defined, but much less so than when he had an active job in the tombs, and any semblance of a tan he had developed from his years spent in Egypt had completely vanished leaving his skin as pale as newly fallen snow.

At least I still have my hair, Bill thought wryly running his fingers through his crimson locks, watching them gracefully cascade down beneath his shoulders - the ladies have always loved this hair.

" 'Appy birthday," Fleur greeted before embracing him with a kiss as he entered the kitchen, "I made you some eggs and toast for breakfast."

"Er, can't say I'm all that hungry," Bill said keeping his arms around his wife, "coffee will do for now."

"But mon cheri, you must eat you're getting much to thin."

"You're starting to sound like my mother," he smirked.

"I am nozing like your muzzer," Fleur pouted before Bill pressed his lips against hers to quell her feelings of annoyance at his comparison. Leaning in to deepen their kiss, Bill allowed his hands to wander her backside and Fleur responded with an intoxicating moan.

"Call in late to work," she purred running her fingers down his waist and resting them upon his belt buckle.

As Fleur spoke, a sudden weakness infiltrated Bill's knees, how could he resist a beautiful woman who only wanted to shag him senseless? But he knew that being late wouldn't go over well with Gringotts' new tightened regime. "I cant," he said regrettably, "Krott will have my arse."

"Zey work you so 'ard zere and treat you like a dog," Fleur frowned biting her lip, "Don't zey know you are one of ze best employees zey 'ave."

"Unfortunately, they're not as concerned with the quality of one's work as they are with the pureness of one's blood now a days."

"Just quit," Fleur stated, "My family can 'elp us out with any financial struggles."

"I'm not going to just quit," Bill replied, vexed at her suggestion. It was one she had brought up before in the past month, and he didn't like the idea one bit. Fleur came from money and didn't understand the value of work, nor the importance of being able to provide for one's family on one's own.

"You are so prideful, Bill Weasley," she bemoaned, "you would rather suffer at a job wit an ungrateful boss, zen receive 'elp from ozers."

"I'm not having this conversation right now," Bill sighed wondering how they had gone from snogging to fighting.

"Fine," Fleur stated crossing her arms.

"Good. I have to get going. I'll see you tonight," he stated finding that his desire for intimacy with her had suddenly vanquished.

"Alright, zen don't be late," Fleur said turning somewhat coldly from him. He would come around to her viewpoint at sometime, she thought, but meanwhile she would just have to put up with a moody, overworked, chain-smoking husband.

…

Bill made it to Gringotts in a sour mood, he was only a few hours into his birthday and already things had gone poorly. He had to admit that he didn't have much hope for the rest of the day, especially now that he was at work.

"Ah, William," greeted Mrs. Russo, the elderly lady who worked in foreign relations, "Happy Birthday," she said handing him a card.

"Erm, thanks," Bill smiled. Mrs. Russo gave everyone at the office a birthday card, but it didn't make the gesture any less sweet, and he was happy that at least some Gringotts' traditions had remained intact after the recent upheaval.

"How old are you today young man?" she asked kindly.

"Twenty-Seven," he replied suddenly feeling like a child next to the near ancient woman.

"My, my, twenty-seven. You've still got a long life ahead of you, and with a beautiful wife, so much to look forward to."

"Yeah, I suppose your right," Bill said suddenly cheering up. "Thank you Mrs. Russo,"- he grinned- "You are much too kind to me."

"Oh anytime deary, and do tell Fleur I say hello."

"Right. Will do," he replied, now feeling guilty about leaving Fleur upset. Preoccupied with the desire to apologize to his wife, Bill ran directly into Bagnob the goblin.

"Mr. Weasley," said the grumpy little creature picking himself up off the floor. "I should inform you that Mr. Krott would like a word."

_Mr. Krott would like a word_, Bill shuddered- the thought terrified him as he walked towards his boss' office. Mr. Krott, whose face was harsh and cold, distinguished by tiny dark eyes that radiated disdain for everyone around him and a perpetual frown, was not the kind of man anyone would want to have a word with, and Bill tried his best to avoid conversation with him as much as possible.

"It's been called to my attention that you are in need of a new secretary," he stated in a deep monotone voice as Bill entered the office.

Not sure how to respond Bill merely nodded.

"Mrs. Macnair is a recent graduate from Hogwarts, she'll only be here part time, but I suspect she will do."

"Yes, sir," Bill continued to nod.

"You'll find her at your work space," Krott said dismissing him, "Oh, and Weasley, I've heard of your reputation with our female interns. You'd do best to keep this relationship strictly business. We here at Gringotts have a zero tolerance policy for any sort of fooling around now."

"But sir, I'm married," Bill replied hesitantly.

"Get to work, Mr. Weasley," Krott growled, clearly wishing to continue the conversation no longer, and off Bill went to his dingy desk hidden deep beneath Gringotts Bank. Waiting there was, as promised, a young witch looking eager to start her first day. She had situated herself upon his desk so that her legs were crossed and her skirt rode up exposing a good part of her thigh. "Melvinda," she greeted with her arm outstretched and an entirely inappropriate bat of her eyelashes, her lips parting into a flirtatious smile.

Bill wanted to pretend that she wasn't blatantly coming on to him, though he knew he had to be cautious. She was pretty enough, with dark curled hair and hazel eyes, but it hardly fazed him as he had seen enough pretty girls in his life time, and despite their little row earlier that morning he was still madly in love with his wife.

"Nice to meet you," he replied in a friendly, but not too friendly voice.

"Mmm, yes, very nice to meet you too," she said, eying him appreciatively.

"Right," he stated nearly rolling his eyes. Krott told him she was suppose to be an intern, not some slaggy girl they plucked off the streets. "Why don't you start by sorting these files," he continued. "Our largest investors go in the blue folder, while our slightly less generous ones go in the red, and everyone else goes in the green. If you can get through all that you should be good."

"Er, sure," she replied seemingly a bit shocked that her plan for seduction had been thwarted.

After that Bill got straight to work, for the most part ignoring his new office addition, though her apparent interest in him did cause him to wonder, after all his looks were a tad unconventional following his confrontation with Greyback. Perhaps she's up to something, he thought feeling a bit paranoid.

Turning to observe the girl he noted that she was expensively dressed and rather polished. Must come from a well to do family, he thought. Melvinda Macnair- where have I heard that before? Macnair- was that not the name of a Death Eater caught in the Department of Mysteries almost two years ago? Melvinda must be his daughter- and all of a sudden it dawned on him: He was being spied on by Death Eaters.

…

After Bill left, Fleur knew she had to start preparing for his party. The twins would be over later to help decorate, but she was in charge of all the cleaning and cooking. As a girl her family had a house elf who did all the chores making Fleur feel a little challenged when it came to cleaning, especially when she compared herself to Mrs. Weasley who was a home maker extraordinaire, but in the past few months she had become relatively acquainted with the basic household spells and found that she had all most no trouble in making the cottage spotless. The next part would be the easiest, being a French witch cooking was in her blood, but she decided in order to save time she would go into town and purchase a cake.

Wrapping herself in a hooded cloak, hoping to not call attention to herself, she apparated into Tinworth. She knew all of the magical institutions were being watched closely by death eaters after the snatcher disaster, so she felt it was best to go to the muggle bakery- after all, muggles can bake a cake just as well, she thought.

Finding the small brick building that said 'Wintour's Baked Goods' she walked inside and greeted the man at the counter. "I'm looking to buy a cake," she said pulling down her hood and exposing her hair.

"Errrrrrr," the man struggled to speak with his mouth slightly agape. Sometimes Fleur forgot the effect she had on men, especially muggle men who were utterly unprepared for her veela charms.

"Derrick, what do you think you are doing?" said a woman shrilly as she exited the kitchen, "help the woman out."

"Er, right," he said suddenly coming to his senses, "A cake. I've got one right over here."

The cake was tall and pretty and Fleur knew it would be perfect for Bill, "Excellente," she smiled, causing the man to take a deep breathe and gulp.

"Good, good," he panted excitedly while the woman, who seemed to be his wife, watched and rolled her eyes, "Erm, that'll be thirty-seven pounds."

"Oh, oui, of course," Fleur said having completely forgotten to get muggle money, "one moment." Turning her back towards the counter, Fleur pulled out a handful of Galleons and Sickles, and very discreetly she transfigured the wizarding money into thirty-seven muggle pounds. It was a trick Bill taught her back when they first started dating and spent a good amount of time exploring the streets of muggle London.

After exchanging the money for cake, the shop owner offered, very enthusiastically, to help her carry it home, nearly tripping over himself to hand it to her, much to the visible dismay of his wife.

"Ah, merci, but I zink I can take care of it myself," Fleur responded feeling a teensy bit sorry for the man's wife. As she exited the bakery she could hear them start to fight.

…

Bill finished up his work on time that day thanks in part to his new secretary who he decided to remain cordial with despite her constant come-ons, and most importantly her Death Eater affiliation (of which he was convinced of). There was no reason to upset someone sent to spy on him, though he did make it a point to call her the wrong name from time to time- Matilda being his most used. It was near laughable that they sent such a silly little girl to do their dirty work, and he almost felt sorry for the poor thing, dragged into this mess of a war by her bigoted family.

Happy to be headed home he looked forward to some alone time with his wife, whom he had to admit had been a bit neglected by him as of late. He knew she understood, but he was still hoping to make it all up to her tonight in their bedroom- a place where he was particularly skilled.

Aparrating right outside the cozy cottage, he climbed up the winding stairs- the only way to enter his well-protected house- and walked inside.

"Fleur?" he called, realizing that the place was completely dark, "where are you?"- he lit the living room with his wand. "is this a fun little birthday game, you saucy…"- walking into the kitchen Bill saw that the room was filled with his parents, the twins, Remus, Tonks, and Kingsley.

SURPRISE! they cried.

"Oh wow," he beamed at his wife, "you shouldn't have."

"But I wanted to,"- she wrapped her arms around him- "you deserve it."

The night went well as everybody ate, laughed, and toasted to Bill's 27th birthday, opening up a bottle of highly potent dragon's mead, mailed as a gift by Bill's brother Charlie. For the first time in a long time, everyone seemed to be in a good mood. Even Remus looked less exhausted than normal, and spent the night smiling and making jokes, no doubt do to the buzz he had received from the mead. Molly fussed over her eldest son, making sure everyone knew how proud of him she was, while Arthur made his feelings more private by taking him aside to give him an intricately crafted set of wizard's chess made out of expensive stone, the Weasley Family Crest embellished on the front.

"This was your great grandfather's," he told him, "he won the Wizarding World Chess Championship, you know, and I want you to have it. It's not much, but it's perhaps the nicest thing I own."

"Wow, dad. I don't know what to say. You really shouldn't give this to me. I mean you should keep it for yourself," Bill said overwhelmed with gratitude at his father's gracious gift.

"Take it son, I really want you to have this. I've watched you grow into an extraordinary man, and you deserve something nice every now and then."

"Thanks dad," Bill smiled. His father's words of affirmation meant more to him than any other present.

As soon as everyone had left Fleur began to clean the kitchen, not that there was much to do as Molly, despite Fleur's protest, had already done most of the work.

"How was Gringotts today?" she asked casually as she placed the last of the leftovers in the fridge.

"Alright," Bill shrugged. "There's a new intern at the office, they placed her as my secretary."

"Zat's good news," Fleur smiled. "Now you will 'ave less of a workload."

"Err, yeah," Bill said, not sure if he should inform his wife of his suspicions.

"You sound unsure, is she not good at 'er job?"

"Eh, she's fine. Nothing too special, not particularly bright."

"Zen I wonder why zey 'ired 'er? Ze Gringotts' internship program is very 'ard to get into."

You know, just to spy on me because I'm on the Death Eaters' watch list, he wanted to say but decided it would be best not to. "Probably because she's young and pretty, has connections, it could be a number of reasons," he replied instead.

"Young and pretty?" Fleur stopped what she was doing and turned towards her husband.

"Very young and very pretty," he teased secretly enjoying the sense of jealousy aroused in his wife. "Seems to fancy me quite a bit too."

"Should I be worried about zis?" she lifted a brow.

"I do have a history of falling for the intern."

"Hmm," Fleur moved in closer, looking up at him with a sultry glare. "Maybe I'll 'ave to go down zere an put 'er in 'er place," she said softly into his ear.

Bill smirked gleefully as Fleur's lips traced the curve of his neck, pushing him down into a chair so she could gain better access as she straddled his lap.

As they kissed Fleur felt her whole body flush becoming extra sensitive to Bill's expert caresses. With a sense of urgency she pulled out his ponytail, then tugged at the lose wild strands of hair before being lifted up and sat down on the kitchen table, her skirt pushed unceremoniously above her waist. Finding it hard to breathe, Fleur clawed at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his bare flesh. It had been much too long since the last time they had done this and Fleur was more ready than ever. It was then that suddenly out of the corner of her eye she spotted a curious flash of red hair by the icebox.

"Ron?" she looked up over her husbands shoulder.

"Ron? Darling, who's Ron? I'm Bill, remember, Bill your husband who's about to give you the best shag of your life," he said continuing to press kisses across her neck and shoulders completely oblivious to Fleur's discovery.

"I mean Ron, your bebe bruzzer, is zat not 'im," Fleur pointed.

"What?" Bill said turning around. Sure enough the youngest male Weasley stood by the refrigerator like a deer caught in headlights, his hands filled with left over dinner.

"Oh, erm, sorry to interrupt," Ron said sheepishly. "Just wanted to get a bit to eat, that's all. I'll just, erm, you can go back to what you were, er, doing. I'll get out of your way."

"What are you doing here?" Bill asked caught completely off guard by his brother's appearance. He hadn't seen him in months, had no idea what he had been up to, and all of a sudden he had appeared in his kitchen,"I thought you were with Harry and Hermione."

At this question, Ron began to shrink. It became obvious that he was starving, dirty, and sleep deprived. "Well, erm, it's a bit of a long story," he said.

* * *

><p>'<p>

Hello faithful readers, I'm so glad you have made it this far! I'm hoping that you all could leave a review to tell me what you think, I really appreciate it when you do, and I try to get back to anyone who asks a question, so feel free to ask anything you like! Up next we'll learn more about the Veela and the Knight, and we'll see what Ron gets up to at shell cottage. We'll also get to know Melvinda Macnair and see her not so well thought out schemes. Sooo get excited and please review!


	10. Chapter 10

**Christmas at the Cottage**

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><p>Eloise felt more isolated than ever. Her peers had mocked her for her belief that the town fire didn't happen on accident, and even her own parents refused to believe her- choosing instead to side with Tinworth's ignorant residents. To make matters worse, her parents continued to fight more than ever- usually about some blonde woman who came into the shop, and Eloise, upset and alone, had nowhere to turn but her books. She hoped that the story of the Knight and the Veela would not only distract her from her troubles, but also provide for her answers…<p>

The beginning of the journey through the forest had remained, for the most part, a silent affair, the knight wished not to anger the veela any further in fear that she would not lead him to the lake, and the veela, despite agreeing to help him, held the handsome man in contempt, but as the pair continued to move along a certain amount of comfort was gained.

"It's beautiful here," Caspian sighed taking in the scenery of the forest. Tall trees surrounding him as just a smattering of light reached the ground. "Must be nice to call this your home."

"It is rather lovely, but there are times when it gets a bit lonely," she admitted, unaware that her guard had come down.

"Ah," Caspian smiled. "So you do have a weakness."

"Who said loneliness was a weakness," she replied, suddenly embarrassed that she had told him so much.

"My dear, it's one of the greatest weaknesses of all. Without others what is there to live for?"

"Well, I have my fair share of visitors," she said.

"The men you control?" He asked, hitting a nerve.

"Why don't you mind your own business," she spat back, "what is it to you who I spend my time with, or how I spend it?"

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry," he apologized, sincerely sorry for his words, and the two continued on their way through the treacherous terrain without speaking. This gave the veela a chance to think, perhaps the knight was right, perhaps her loneliness was a weakness, but such was the life of a veela, who could hardly wish for true companionship. Men could only lust for her, never love, she sighed.

Fortunately the veela really did know her way around the place, and the two were able to move in relative peace, she even showed the knight a shortcut through the mountain that cut of days off from their journey. Once the pair got to the other side, a glistening stream appeared upon the ground.

Thirsty, and in need of a wash the knight moved towards it. "Don't drink it," the veela warned. "It will make you forget everything: why you're here, and who you are. Don't think I am the only thing that protects the lake of the lilies."

"What should we do then?" The knight asked desperate for water.

"There is some ground springs up less than a mile from here, I shall take you to it," she told him

Reaching the spring water, the knights steady walk turned into a jog. "I'll meet you there," he teased, calling her on to a race.

"You could only wish," she smiled. The race was well matched as the knight was athletic and strong, but the veela was light and exceptionally quick on her feet. Ending in nearly a tie, the knight jumped into the water, "come in, it's feels good," he howled with a laugh.

"I'm not getting wet," she stated, her arms folding above her waist, though she had to admit the knights enthusiasm amused her.

"Oh really," he said mischievously before dragging her into the spring. He had to admit the maiden was beautiful, even with out her veela charms, and her knowledge of the forest truly impressed him. He longed to get to know her better, but he knew he had to be safe, she did have a devilish side after all. Suddenly he felt the urge to kiss her.

Their lips merely grazed before he realized his mistake, she may have been gorgeous with a fiery spirit that intrigued, but once this journey was over she would return to her true form, and he could never be with a veela, plus he had someone back home, a girl he was planning to marry.

The veela flushed, an unusual mixture of hatred and desire flooded her mind. How dare he be so bold, she thought, but she had never experienced something so invigorating, which made her hesitant to lash out.

One moments she slapped him, and the next she was kissing him passionately, perhaps a veela could find love yet...

As Eloise read outside one early December morning, a single snowflake fell to the open page of her book. Looking up, Eloise noticed that a gentle frost was falling, it was winters first snow.

…

Snow fell rapidly around Shell Cottage as Bill stood at the kitchen stove, watching over the sizzling bacon and crepes he was making, while his youngest brother, Ron, sat at the table waiting patiently for his breakfast.

After having surprised Bill and Fleur at their home, Ron remained vague about his mission with Harry and Hermione. Bill allowed for this with out much pressing, because he saw that Ron was greatly in need of some rest and recuperation. Once Ron was in better spirits Bill knew he could get the truth out from his kid brother.

"Mum wrote me the other day asking when Fleur and I would be coming for Christmas. I haven't gotten around to writing back," Bill stated casually, placing a plate of bacon and crepes before his brother.

"You wont tell her I'm here." Ron replied greedily shoving the food into his mouth.

"I already told you I wouldn't, but what I don't understand is why you don't even want to go home for Christmas. What are you hiding from everyone?"

"I'm not hiding anything," Ron mumbled, his face filled with crepes.

"Really, you expect me to believe that? You show up at my house months after disappearing with Harry and Hermione, covered in grime and half starving, and you want me to think that you're not hiding anything? I'm not an idiot, you know."

"It's not that," Ron looked towards the ground clearly trying to avoid his brother's gaze. "I just don't want them to think I'm a quitter, that I couldn't handle the mission Dumbledore gave to Harry. You think Fred, George, and Ginny would let me live this down?"

"Hmm," Bill scratched his chin, looking at the melancholy expression etched upon his brother's face. He did have a point, Fred, George, and Ginny could be rather merciless at times. "Why _did_ you run away- from Harry and Hermione, that is?"

"I didn't mean to,"- Ron sighed- "it's just… Harry and I got into a bit of a fight, I was only concerned about our family, and he… well, he took it as me wanting to go home. We were all pretty cranky and tired, harsh words were said, and before I knew it I was walking one way- Harry and Hermione another- and I don't know, I just… disapparated. I immediately regretted it, but I ran right into some gang of wizards- one of them definitely part troll- and they wanted to know who I was, seemed really unfriendly…

"Snatchers," Bill interrupted.

"What?" Ron asked seeming confused.

"Mercenaries rounding up muggle borns, there's a reward for each one found. Already had a bit of a run in with them- they aren't particularly bright."

"Oh," -Ron gulped-"Anyway, long story short, by the time I got away from the _snatchers _and aparrated back, Harry and Hermione were gone."

Bill took a moment to absorb the information he was just given, and seeing that his brother looked truly sorry he spoke, "Well, I can't say I condone your actions, but I suppose there's not much you can do now. You're right about Fred, George, and Ginny, you'd never hear the end of it from them."

Ron looked up at his brother with penitent blue eyes; he definitely wasn't a little boy anymore- at least not the one Bill remembered from their days in the Burrow, running around behind Fred and George, always desperate to be included in their games- but he was still too young to be at the forefront of a terrible war, and he still needed a big brother to help clean up his messes. "Tell you what, I'll tell mum Fleur and I won't be coming for Christmas, and we'll celebrate it here. You can stay as long as you like."

"Thanks, Bill," Ron gave a measly smile. "I always liked you best."

"Aye, sure kiddo," -Bill mussed-up the younger Weasley's hair- "Just be sure to behave your self," he smirked.

…

"Breakfast is served my lady," Bill said sending the tray of food he just prepared to his wife still in bed.

"Merci, mon amour" she replied with a sleepy smile. Bill thought she was at her most beautiful in the morning, with her hair all messy, and not a stitch of make-up on her face.

"Sleep well last night?" he asked slipping back into their bed.

"Mmm hmm," she replied taking a bit to eat, "I alwayz sleep better when you are 'ere wit me and not working tru ze night in your office."

"Hey now, things have gotten better, haven't they? I've made it to bed nearly every single night for the past week." This was, of course, thanks' in part to his new secretary, but Bill felt no need to mention her to his wife.

"If only now you could make it back with enough energy for sex," Fleur teased, causing Bill to wince. He hated when she brought up their recent lack of love life. Even during the full moon when he usually felt extra frisky, he was much too exhausted from work to give his wife what she craved. This is an old married couple's problem- he thought, feeling a bit ashamed- not something young newlyweds had to deal with.

"I talked to Ron," he said eager to change the subject.

"Oh, and what did he say?" Fleur replied curious to know if Ron had finally opened up. She desperately wanted to hear news of Harry, who hadn't been seen for months, and was being searched for everywhere by Death Eaters and misguided wizards alike. She wondered how the boy had evaded so many people when his face was all over the _Profit_ , the words _Dangerous _and_ Enemy #1_ marked under his name, and the reward for his capture at nearly one-million galleons.

"Not too much regarding what he's been up too, but he did say he left Harry and Hermione on bad terms. I have a sneaking suspicion they haven't made too much headway with Dumbledore's mission."

"Ah, non," Fleur frowned, her heart sinking into her chest, she wanted so badly to hear better news. "When do you think 'e will leave?"

"I don't know," Bill shrugged. "He'll be here for Christmas, which reminds me; we won't be going to the Burrow this year. Ron doesn't want to see the rest of the family, so the three of us will be staying here."

"Oh, zat is too bad," she said, trying to feign disappointment- the truth was she would much rather have a quiet Christmas alone with Bill (and his brother), than a noisy, overwhelming affair, set to the musical styling of Celestina Warbeck- but Bill saw right through her poor acting skills and laughed.

"Not too keen on another Weasley Christmas, are you?"

"Ehh," Fleur smiled sheepishly.

"Quite alright. I'd say last year was a bit of a disaster, with the Minister busting in and everything"

"Not to mention your muzzer _forgetting_ to make me a Christmas sweater," she added pretending to be upset. It had become something of a joke between her and her husband- 'The sweater incident' they called it.

"You wouldn't have worn it anyway," Bill teased.

"Well, regardless, it's ze thought zat counts," Fleur laughed unable to continue her false anger as Bill playfully pulled her towards him.

"Come here you," he said. "If I recall, I gave you a much better present than some hand made sweater that night."

"Very true," she smirked.

…

During the first week or so of Ron's stay at Shell Cottage, Fleur found she was keen on avoiding him. He tended to turn into a ball of mush around her, drooling all over the place with a dopey smile, and she had to admit it made her uncomfortable. She even had a suspicion that he was the boy who tried to ask her to the Tri-Wizard Ball by screaming at her, then shamefully running away before she could reply. She couldn't quite remember as so many had approached her about the dance, that it all seemed like a blur.

'Who did I end up with?' she pondered; Ralston, Rover, Riley- that's it, Riley Dawson, or was it Roger, no definitely not Roger. Anyway, it didn't matter anymore, the point was, she had no desire to spend time with a hormonally charged teenager, and so far, it wasn't much of a challenge as he spent most of his time held up in his room, but as the days went on Bill pressed her to get to know the boy better.

"He's a really sweet kid," Bill said. "You two should put up Christmas decorations together."

"But zat is ze problem," Fleur whined, "'e is just a kid."

"Sweetheart," Bill said with an amused smile, "You're not even three years older than him, in fact, I'd say you're just a kid."

Yes, but I'm married, and French, therefore much more mature and sophisticated than some silly teenage boy, not to mention part veela, and honestly the two don't mix, she thought before half heartedly agreeing to decorate the home with her brother-in-law.

"Good," Bill said with a kiss, "I'll let him know the plans."

The next morning after Bill went off to work, Fleur prepared her home to set up the decorations. It was her first Christmas on her own and she wanted everything to be perfect which made her worry that Ron would screw things up.

"Morning," Ron said making his way into the sitting room. Fleur turned expecting to see a googly-eyed boy, but instead found a slightly tired face that had almost less desire to be there than her.

"I made you some cafe," Fleur stated, "its in ze kitchen. I used a warming spell so it wouldn't go cold."

"Er, thanks, that's real ace of you," he replied without so much as a stutter. This came unexpectedly as he used to be unable to make it through an entire sentence without stumbling over his words when he spoke to her. 'Perhaps Bill talked to him,' she shrugged.

To Fleur's surprise, putting up Christmas decorations with Ron went well. He was helpful and considerate, and didn't mind her bossy attitude (admittedly she could be somewhat of a pain when it came to these sort of things) she suspected it was because he had five older siblings and was used to being bossed around. By afternoon, they had a tree up (really an old potted plant she transfigured), and covered in glowing blue and white bulbs. The stockings had been hung, garland had been strung, and the ceiling had been enchanted to sparkle with snow.

"Magnifique," Fleur clapped her hands together as she surveyed the cottage, "It reminds me of Christmastime back home."

"It's pretty brilliant," Ron grinned for the first time since he had arrived.

"Thanks to you," Fleur stated patting him on the back.

"Er, no problem," Ron blushed, it was the first time that day he had done so, but Fleur didn't seem to mind.

"That's a pretty bracelet," he pointed towards the silver band around her wrist "you think Hermione would like something like that."

"Your girlfriend?" Fleur asked, unsure if the two were dating. All of a sudden, Ron's lack of interest in her made sense, he had another woman on the brain.

"Er, no, not really. In fact, I think she might hate me," he replied looking downcast.

"Ah, I see," Fleur smiled wistfully. "I'll write to my maman, she was the one who got zis for me in Magie De Rue, er, sort of like Diagon Alley, but in Paris. I'll see if she can find somezing similar. A little jewelry can go a long way in terms of winning a woman's 'eart."

"I think it's going to take a lot more than a bracelet to get back in Hermione's good graces."

"Hmm, well it couldn't 'urt."

"Er, sure. Thanks, Fleur," he said, a tiny smile forming upon his face, and Fleur realized it was nice to have someone at the cottage to keep her company when Bill was gone.

…

Christmas Eve arrived with a deep chill and a blanket of snow, but inside Shell Cottage, its residents were warm and cozy. A pleasant dinner was had with roasted turkey (though, Bill still had a few slices of raw steak), creamy potatoes, a hearty vegetable stew, and of course the traditional French desert of Bûche de Noël, along with other French pastries and chocolate treats, not to mention the generous portions of champagne and warmed butter beer they all drank. Everyone seemed merry, putting aside their troubles and enjoying the night, but deep inside Fleur felt a creeping sadness enter her heart.

She longed to rest by the giant hearth inside her parent's chateau and watch party guests in their sharp suits and pretty gowns trade witty remarks and joyful toasts, to have Gabrielle sit in her lap and tell her her hopes for Christmas morning presents, and to be surrounded by the beautiful French countryside as winter pressed it's silvery glow upon the hills and valleys. It wasn't that she didn't love Bill and their new life together- she did- but she couldn't help feel a bit homesick, especially in this season dedicated to family.

"I think I'm going to call in early," Ron said clearly a little tipsy as he stood from the table. Both Bill and Fleur knew he wasn't really going to bed, but in fact to his room to listen to the radio. He did it every night in hopes (or maybe fear) he might hear news of Harry and Hermione.

"Alright, good night," they said in unison, playing along with his lie.

"I guess it's just the two of us, now," Bill stated turned towards his wife. "Care to open a few presents?"

"I suppose," she replied, hoping perhaps the presents would put her in a better mood.

Under the tree were two knitted sweaters, one with a B, another with an F. "I made sure mum didn't forget you this year," Bill joked handing Fleur her gift.

"Charmant," she smiled sarcastically, Bill was right she would never wear such a tacky piece of clothing, she didn't care if it seemed rude.

"Put it on," he goaded her. "It's a Weasley family tradition you know, if you want to be one of use you must wear your sweater."

"You are 'orrible to me, Bill Weasley," she teased, hesitantly putting on the ugly thing.

"It's the thought that counts," he replied smugly.

From Charlie, Bill received a nice dragon skin notebook, and a beautiful glass blown amulet said to bring good luck (and protection from vampires) was given to Fleur, along with a big box of baklava for them both. The twins were generous enough to give them the latest merchandise from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, all of which Bill was a bit scared to try- Ron can have these, he thought, looking down at the box of 'New and Improved Puking Pastilles', though he figured he would keep the Instant Facial Hair Cream- perhaps Fleur would fancy him with a pair of mutton-chops.

After opening a book from Bill's dad on 'Muggle Machinery: 25 Amazing Muggle Inventions,' and some fancy self cleaning silverware from Fleur's mum, the two decided they would finish the next morning, after all there had to be presents on Christmas Morning, and secretly Fleur felt if she continued to open presents from her dad, sister, and grand-mere she might cry. She couldn't stand the feeling of missing them so much, not sure when she would see them again.

"Let's do one more," Bill said not quite ready to end the night. "Your pick," he grinned.

" 'Ow about zis one," Fleur pointed towards a small green and silver wrapped box. "I don't know who it's from."

"Hmm," Bill sighed inquisitively picking up the Box. 'To Bill, From Melvinda,' it stated in the card.

"Melvinda," Fleur raised a brow, "Who's Melvinda?"

"Oh, just my new secretary at work," he replied casually, though feeling a bit embarrassed. He never really talked to his wife about the intern, at least not since her first day at Gringotts.

"I didn't know you were close enough to exchange presents," Fleur said suspiciously.

"We aren't, well not really. I don't know why she sent it," he stated aware that his wife didn't like where this was going. The truth was, he and Melvinda, had stricken up a strange friendship over the past few weeks, and he found he had taken a liking to the girl- in a very platonic way, of course- despite her shady family, and dubious reasons to be at Gringotts. Once she stopped hitting on him, Bill realized she was an enjoyable companion, and the two found common ground with their dislike of the goblins (nasty, strange little things, really) and their love for a good smoke. Also, she really did help him out at the office a lot.

Of course, Bill was careful not to divulge too much information about his life to her, especially not that his wife was part veela, and his brother Ron, Harry Potter's best friend, had been living with them for the past few weeks, but he found this was mostly easy as she much more enjoyed talking about herself than asking questions about him.

The green and silver wrapping should have given it away, and he should have hid the present from sight. For some reason he felt he should keep their friendship a secret, though he didn't know why, probably because she worked for the Death Eaters, and if Fleur ever found out she would be upset (though mostly worried) by his fraternization with the enemy.

"Well, open it," Fleur tapped her foot, curious to what some silly intern could send her husband. Inside the box was a jewel encrusted cigar case, clearly an expensive item.

"Seems like an awful nice present to get from someone you're not close to," Fleur said, her lips pursing into a harsh line. She didn't understand why her husband never talked about someone who was clearly a part of his life.

"Fleur, I can explain," Bill sighed, but Fleur didn't want to hear it, at least not tonight.

…

Eloise spent most of Christmas Eve working in the bakery. Even though it was the busiest day of the year her dad was not there, and her and her mother had to work extra hard to get everything done. When she asked about his absence her mother only replied with stiff, "He's taken the day off," not a very sufficient answer, but Eloise didn't press much further. It was sad really, she only wanted to be able to spend the whole day with her family in hopes that her parents would stop fighting on account of the Holiday, and despite recent troubles, Eloise really loved her father- he was the one who encouraged her passion for reading, often giving her books as 'just because' presents.

When her and her mother finished closing down the shop she asked if her dad would meet them for Christmas Eve dinner. It was apparent that her mother was upset at the question, but Eloise still wanted to know.

"Is he coming or not?" she asked, yet again.

"No honey, he's not," her mother said, clearly struggling to keep her temper.

"Why?" Eloise said disregarding the warnings that signaled her to stop asking questions. "Why won't he be here for Christmas Eve?" she stomped her foot on the ground.

"Oh for goodness sakes, Eloise, we're getting a divorce," her mother erupted with a cry. "Don't pretend you didn't see this coming."

Eloise swore she felt her heart stop cold. A divorce, how could they? How could they do this too her, especially during Christmas, right before her birthday on the 26th? The selfishness of it all, she thought. And then she couldn't think at all, in fact she could hardly breath, all she could do was run. With her feet pushing down on the pavement, she didn't know where they would take her, she only knew she needed to go, despite the cold and the snow, she had to leave. Far away and out of breath she felt tears flooding her eyes and freezing to her cheeks.

"Are you alright deary?" a kind and strangely familiar voice called. Looking up, Eloise saw the old librarian wearing a deep purple robe, her grey hair twisted tightly into a bun on the top of her head.

"Eloise, I believe?" she said with a warm smile, pressing her glasses to the brim of her nose.

"How… how do you know my name?" she sniffled, trying to hold back her tears.

"I know all the people who come into the library's name, it's why we have library cards," she mused.

"Right," Eloise said, feeling silly. Of course she knew her name.

"May I ask where your parents are, and what you're doing alone on an exceptionally cold Christmas Eve?"

Eloise felt the tears start to pour out of her eyes again, and the elderly lady looked down on her with compassion. "I'm sorry, dear, I shouldn't have asked. Would you like to come in for a bit o' hot cider. Might make you feel better."

Taking a sharp breath to stifle her crying, Eloise nodded. She would like that a lot.

* * *

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Hey there readers! I just want to say thanks to all of you who favorited this, and who wrote a review. It really means a lot to me. I only wish I were getting more reviews, but oh well. My reviewers are lovely, and it's quality, not quantity right? Anyway, please feel free to drop a line. I'd really like to hear how you like (or don't like) things, pretty please!


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